You and I Have Been Through it All
by Hadi42
Summary: The requirements to becoming chief of Berk are mostly waived if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to be the Chief's son. But even if, like 15 year old Hiccup Haddock, you are intended to succeed your father from birth, there is one small thing the Council of Elders still demands. Well... maybe not so small.
1. 15 Years is a Long Time to Keep a Secret

Astrid Hofferson would never have suspected her father of keeping secrets from her. He had always been a doting parent, a powerful lump of a man who always had a bag of sweets and an exciting tale to share with his only daughter. He had set her on his lap countless times as a child, his wild, yellow beard tickling her face, and regaled her with the stories of how he had fought dragons and invaders, weathered treacherous storms, and sailed as far as the horizon. Astrid loved her father; even once she grew old enough to understand that many of his tales were probably heavily embellished for her amusement and that he was a man with faults, like any other, her belief that he would always be an honorable, proud Viking warrior never wavered.

So when he summoned her downstairs one morning and she found him looking very grim indeed, Astrid immediately assumed that there had been a death in the family.

"Oh no," she said, sitting at the table across from him slowly. "Who is it?" she asked, steeling herself for the loss.

Her father frowned, his fingers tapping anxiously against the table. "This is a delicate matter, Astrid. I'm not certain..."

He was interrupted by a loud clang behind him. Astrid saw her mother, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with Astrid's own fair hair, scowling at a pot bubbling on the hearth. Astrid had rarely seen her mother so irritable; she was usually a pleasant and kind person. Astrid's father glanced back at his wife, looking more unsure than ever.

"Just tell me, Dad," Astrid said, thinking it would be better to get it over with. "Who is it?"

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"It's Hiccup Haddock."

Astrid stared at him, nonplussed. Hiccup Haddock was the son of the Chief of Berk, and certainly not related close enough to the Hoffersons for her father to be grieving over his loss. Astrid had known Hiccup all her life, though they had never been close, and she knew very well that her father considered the boy a disappointment to the entire tribe.

"Hiccup is dead?" she asked, confused. There was a sharp, mirthless bark of laughter as her mother slammed a bowl of porridge in front of her husband and cuffed him over the head none too gently.

"Explain it properly," she threatened. Astrid's father scowled.

"He's not dead," he muttered darkly, as if he thought this was an unfortunate outcome. "Hiccup Haddock is... he's your betrothed."

The words seemed to take a very long time to reach her, and when they did, she wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"My... what?"

She glanced from her mother to her father, hoping one of them would laugh and tell her it was a joke, but they both stared at her stonily, serious as the grave.

_"What?!" _she shrieked, getting to her feet. _"Betrothed?! __To_ _Hiccup Haddock?! Since when?!"_

_"_Since you were both babes," her mother said gruffly, giving her husband a look of utmost contempt. "You were hardly a year old when your father and Chief Stoick made the arrangements. Against my wishes, I might add."

"Aye, and you've never let me forget it all these years," Astrid's father grumbled. "I was just acting in Astrid's best interests-"

"_Astrid's _best interests?!" her mother scoffed. "More like _your _best interests!"

"Of course not-!"

"Hold on, you mean you both knew, all this time?!" Astrid asked angrily. "You betrothed me as a child to _Hiccup Haddock _and never once did it occur to you that I had a right to know?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"We meant to," her father said evasively. "But the older the boy got, the more I regretted having promised your hand. No one expected a son of Stoick the Vast to turn out like... well, the way he did. I thought you might prefer the peace of mind."

Astrid was beyond fury. She slammed her hands on the table and glowered at her father. "I won't do it," she seethed. "I refuse to marry that... that pathetic excuse for a Viking! Have you _seen _him?! He's nothing more than a toothpick! I'm a shieldmaiden! I'll never settle for someone that weak!"

"Sit down," her father said, his tone dangerous. She fell back into her chair, fuming. "As much as I agree with your concerns, you_ will_ marry the Haddock boy. I'm afraid we have no choice in the matter, and we've run out of time."

"What does that mean?! Engagements break all the time!"

Astrid's mother sighed. "Not this one," she admitted reluctantly. "Hiccup is Stoick's son; someday he will be Chief of Berk. But in order for the Council of Elders to accept him as the official successor, he must be married before the age of sixteen. He has a month left before his coming of age ceremony. Stoick will never agree to break the betrothal now, so close to the deadline."

"Aye, short of starting a blood feud, there's nothing left for me to do," Astrid's father said dully. "I don't have to tell you how serious that would be."

Astrid went pale. A blood feud would haunt both the Hoffersons and the Haddocks for generations.

"But... there has to be something!" she pleaded, desperate for a way out.

"I've tried everything," her father said, shaking his head grimly. "I'm sorry, Astrid. You will marry him, and you will be the next Cheiftess of Berk. You have to do this."

Astrid slumped back in her chair, shocked.

"When?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Soon," he said, grimacing. "We'll have a date after the negotiations tomorrow."

She spent that afternoon in the forest, tearing apart several small trees with her axe. Never in all her life had she felt so betrayed. Her own father had sold her like an object, and her mother had kept it from her! She flung her axe dead center into a tree and fell onto a stump, sobbing with pure fury. How could they do this to her? Her life, so full of opportunity and dreams, was going to be wasted, tethered to that idiot Hiccup. She'd have to spend all her time looking after him; he seemed to have an unfortunate knack for finding trouble. Never mind the dragon raids, she thought miserably; he looked as though a stiff wind could finish him off. She'd be a full time guardian, a glorified babysitter.

"I'll never forgive you, father," she swore, wiping the angry tears from her cheek. "Never."

* * *

It was unfair, Hiccup thought, that no one had bothered to prepare him for this. Considering just how important it was, and how long his father had been sitting on this critical piece of information without so much as a hint about what was awaiting him, Hiccup felt as though he had been deliberately blindsided. Hadn't he spent his life thinking that marriage was something in the far future, a choice he would make with someone special when he was a grown man and not a skinny, gangling, fifteen year old? Weren't people supposed to marry for love?

He glanced nervously across the table at his soon-to-be bride. Astrid Hofferson was looking down at the table with a defeated sort of expression in her clear blue eyes. Her hair was braided carefully to the side, her studded _kransen _sitting on her brow, and she looked thoroughly miserable. Hiccup had liked Astrid for years, but he had never wanted something like this to happen. As their fathers argued out the details of the bride price and Astrid's shoulders drooped with resignation, Hiccup only felt a heavy sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't be happy or excited about something neither of them had had any say in.

Hiccup's father had explained the situation the night before; he had to be married before his birthday next month, in order to be eligible to succeed his father as Chief. Whether he _wanted_ to succeed was irrelevant; as usual, his father completely ignored his objections.

"You could have mentioned this at some point!" Hiccup had exclaimed angrily when Stoick finally told him. "You're always going on about how I'm going to follow in your footsteps, but never once did you bother to mention the tiny little detail that I was _betrothed_!"

"It wasn't important then," his father said gruffly. "Everyone was hoping you would... fill out better. There was too much we had to do to prepare you." He frowned. "There's still plenty to do, but we've run out of time. If you're not wedded by next month the Elders won't consider you as a candidate at all."

"Well, maybe that's for the best!" Hiccup argued. "No one wants me to be chief except you!"

Of course, Stoick didn't even hear this; he had more important matters to deal with than a paltry little thing like his son's feelings.

By the sound of it, Astrid's father wasn't overly worried about how Astrid felt either.

"Fifty sheep and not a head less," he scowled, banging his fist on the table.

"You're mad!" Stoick roared. "The price has always been thirty!"

"Aye, that was before your runt of a boy became," her father paused, waving his hand in Hiccup's direction as if he weren't there at all. "That."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Hiccup said drily. No one paid him any mind.

"My Astrid is a warrior! I can't let my daughter go to waste on such a pathetic excuse for a man! Not for any less than fifty!"

Hiccup wished they would stop; if he felt humiliated by the negotiations, he couldn't imagine how it must feel to be in Astrid's boots. How awful must it be to have two adult men, one of them your own father, haggle over your worth in sheep?

"Your daughter will be the next Chieftess of the village!" said Stoick, pointing at her furiously. "That's an honor worth more than any flock!"

"It would be, but look at the boy!" Astrid's father shouted. "All skin and bones, not a single muscle in his pathetic little body! How is he going to protect a household, a family?! He doesn't even look capable of bedding a ghost, much less a healthy, strapping girl!"

Hiccup went scarlet, wishing he could sink into the bench and disappear. He tried to look anywhere but at Astrid as the argument continued, but it was difficult when she was sitting right across from him. He steeled himself and braved a peek at her face; she looked mortified, her cheeks burning with shame. He was going to say something to lighten the mood when she looked up and caught his eye. The words died in his throat as he frantically pretended to be listening to the negotiations.

"Forty five."

"Forty two. And not one more."

"...Deal," Astrid's father grumbled, and the two men grudgingly shook hands.

"All that's left is to set a date for the ceremony," Stoick said, more cheerfully. Hiccup's stomach did a sickening sort of flip.

"A week from now works for us," Astrid's father deliberated reluctantly, stroking his ruddy beard. Hiccup's mouth went dry. That was entirely too soon, surely-

"Agreed."

He cast his eyes back toward Astrid, panicking. She was biting her lip, but when she saw him looking she gave him a look of such deep resentment he had the sudden urge to hide behind his father's furs.

Stoick suddenly slapped Hiccup heartily on the back, making him wince. "Well, my boy, I'm sure you two have a lot to discuss," he grinned at them. "We'll leave you to it; just remember, no funny business before the wedding!"

"Dad!" Hiccup hissed. Stoick ignored him, and he and Astrid's father left to get drinks to celebrate a successful negotiation.

The silence was deafening. Hiccup went over a thousand different threads of conversation in his head but couldn't seem to open his mouth. It was only after a painful five minutes that he finally managed to say something.

"Well," he rasped, and had to clear his throat loudly. "This is awkward."

Astrid made a noncommittal noise of agreement.

"I'm guessing no one told you either...?"

"No, not a word," she said darkly, crossing her arms and glancing at their fathers on the other side of the Great Hall. Her expression softened slightly and she sighed, looking resigned once more. "I know these things happen, sometimes. I just didn't think-"

"It would happen to us," Hiccup said grimly. "That about sums it up on my end too." He tapped the table restlessly with his fingers. "You- you can refuse, you know," he said quickly. "I know I'm not exactly a catch. You don't have to... if you absolutely don't want to..." He wasn't sure what response he wanted to hear from her.

"I do have to," she grimaced. "And so do you. Breaking off the engagement now will cause our families no end of trouble. It may even start a blood feud. Besides, no one will ever want to marry either of us if we break it off after being engaged all our lives; we'll look like damaged goods."

Hiccup was about to joke that he would gladly marry her if no one else would but caught himself right before he said something monumentally stupid.

"I'm sorry," he said instead. "It's not fair that you got caught up in all... this," he said flatly, gesturing at himself. "You deserve someone better."

"It's not like it's your fault this happened," she sighed. She gave him a calculating look, as though she were trying to properly appraise his worth for the first time. Her eyes lingered on his thin arms and scruffy hair; he couldn't help feeling like he was being sized up as prey by a much larger animal. "I guess it could be worse," she muttered. She didn't sound very convinced.

* * *

Astrid spent the next week feeling oddly detached from reality. Preparations for the ceremony and the feast were in full swing at home, but Astrid couldn't help feeling like she was an observer in someone else's life. Her mother hurried back and forth around the house, preparing Astrid's clothes and picking out a suitable sword from her father's collection, helping Astrid memorize her vows and helping her pack all her things away neatly, but Astrid couldn't quite wrap her mind around the fact that all this fuss was for her sake. It wasn't until the afternoon before the wedding that everything became all too real.

"... and you'll need to store your _kransen _away properly," her mother was saying as she folded a set of quilts and lay them into Astrid's dowry chest. "If you and Hiccup have a daughter, it will belong to her, just like you inherited it from me."

"A daughter...?" Astrid repeated weakly, feeling like she might faint.

"That's right," her mother said, counting through a set of fabrics carefully. "Of course, it will be useless if you only have sons, but-"

Astrid sunk into her bed, completely overwhelmed.

"Mom, I don't think I can do this," she said in a hoarse whisper.

Her mother looked back at her and gave her a sad sort of smile.

"It'll be okay. Marriage isn't the end of the world."

"That's easy for you to say!" Astrid groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "You're not the one who has to marry _Hiccup, _of all people!"

"Don't be cruel, Astrid," her mother scolded, turning back to the swatches of cloth. "He may be lacking in a lot of the usual ways, but Stoick's son is a good boy. He won't make life difficult for you."

"I highly doubt that," Astrid said coldly. "He's always doing something stupid, and he's so _weak!"_

"Astrid," her mother warned.

"You know it's true!"

"Be that as it may," she huffed, folding another cloth and arranging it in the chest, "there is nothing any of us can do to stop this union, and Hiccup no more asked for this than you did. You can either waste all your energy kicking and screaming and make yourself miserable for the rest of your life, or you can accept the inevitable and make the best of it. Isn't it better to have someone friendly to share the ordeal with?"

"We're not friends," Astrid muttered mutinously.

"Maybe not yet," her mother said wisely. "But believe me when I say a good marriage isn't built solely on love and passion. You need mutual consideration and trust before anything else."

"Trust?" Astrid scoffed. "After the row you and Dad are having about this whole thing?"

Astrid's mother shot her a glare. "That's something else altogether," she snapped.

"Sure it is," Astrid muttered.

"Just, try, Astrid," her mother sighed. "Don't resent the boy for something he had no say in. Everything will be so much easier on you both if you get to know each other before making any conclusions."

Astrid seriously doubted that, but what choice did she have?

* * *

The days leading up to the wedding passed by in a sickening blur. Hiccup had the feeling that the more he wanted time to slow, the faster it all went. Before he knew it, the new house was built, his things were packed away, and the preparations for the feast began. His father and some of the other villagers were responsible for Hiccup's clothes and ceremonial sword, but the ring he would give his bride at the ceremony was his own responsibility. He drew tirelessly for several nights, a steady pile of balled-up parchment growing around his desk, before he finally sketched something he was happy with.

He spent the last two days of his single life holed up in the forge, making and remaking the silver band until he was satisfied. At last, late on the last night, he finished, wiping his forehead with exhaustion. He pulled the tongs from the trough and let the wet ring fall into his palm. He turned it over in his fingers, letting the flickering light of the flames catch the engraving. It wasn't much, really, but he hoped Astrid would sense the sincerity behind it. It was the only thing he could offer her.

He yawned, tired, and pulled off his apron as he glanced at the sky outside the window. He had to be up at dawn to start the purification ritual, so he had about three hours to rest. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if he'd manage to sleep at all.

"You too, huh."

He jumped, nearly dropping the apron into the trough. "Astrid!" he yelped, hastily shoving the ring into his pocket. "What are you doing here?!" She was watching him from the doorway, mild amusement twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"Couldn't sleep," she said, sitting on a table against the wall. "I saw the fire outside, I thought I'd check to see who was burning the midnight oil. I should have realized it was you." She kicked her foot halfheartedly in the air. "It doesn't seem real," she said quietly.

Hiccup hung his apron on its hook, trying to think of something witty to say. "Well, it might not be," he said. "I'm holding out for the possibility I'm still asleep."

"If this is your dream, I want out," she grumbled.

"It could be _your_ dream," he grinned. "No one would blame you, not with a groom this handsome."

She gave a derisive snort. "Dream on, Hiccup."

"I'd really rather not," he said, his smile fading. He sunk into a chair tiredly. "What are we gonna do, Astrid? I don't know about you, but I don't think I'm ready to be a husband."

"Do I look like a bride to you?" she scoffed. "I've never cooked a meal in my life. I don't even know how to run a household. I skipped my mother's lessons because I thought learning how to fight was more important. I can throw an axe and hit a target square in the center, but I never thought I'd need to know how to use a broom."

Hiccup laughed dryly. "Well you're in luck then; I couldn't fight off a squirrel, but I can cook and clean just fine. You take care of the dangerous beasts and deadly invaders, and I'll make sure you have a warm meal waiting for you when you're done knocking heads." Astrid fell quiet, thinking.

"I know you're putting yourself down, but honestly? That wouldn't be so bad," she admitted. "I'd feel better if you weren't running around like an idiot during raids at least."

"Duly noted," he grimaced. "I promise to behave if you promise not to get yourself killed."

"Deal."

Hiccup suddenly remembered something else that had been on his mind since the negotiation. He blushed furiously at the thought, but it was too important to avoid discussing now.

"Astrid, about the wedding night..."

"Oh. That," she said in an oddly strangled voice.

There was a deeply uncomfortable silence. Hiccup stared at the floor, too afraid to look at her in case she thought he was being too forward.

"I don't think I'm ready for that," they both said at the same time.

"You're not?" Astrid asked as Hiccup blinked in surprise. "I thought..."

"No, I- Not that I wouldn't want- that is, it has nothing to do with you- I'm just not- I mean-" Hiccup stumbled over the words and could have cursed at his own clumsiness. Clearly he was only making it worse, and his face was so hot that the heat of the forge behind him was nothing in comparison.

To his horror, she laughed. He looked up at her, expecting to be ridiculed, but instead she gave him a tired, wry smile.

"Don't worry, I get what you're trying to say. I feel the same." She sighed, avoiding his eyes. "It's just too sudden, expecting this from us. We're only fifteen years old."

"I know," said Hiccup gloomily. "I've never even kissed anyone, much less-" He realized he'd said too much and broke off, feeling more ashamed than ever.

Astrid cleared her throat pointedly, kicking her foot harder.

"We need a plan," she muttered. "If we're not going to do it, we need to fake it."

"How?" Hiccup asked. "They're going to check the sheets in the morning, you know that."

"I know, we have to get blood on them somehow."

"We're not allowed weapons in the bedroom during the ceremony," Hiccup said concernedly. "Not since... the incident."

They both shuddered. Some years ago, a clan wedding had gone horribly wrong during the bedding ceremony. The bride and groom had gotten into a nasty, drunken argument, and having their swords within easy reach turned out to have been a terrible mistake. Since then, both parties in a wedding were thoroughly checked for concealed weapons and their belongings examined carefully before they were brought into the bedroom.

"Well... we'll come up with something," Astrid said, sounding skeptical.

Hiccup was about to agree when he glanced out the window; it was still dark, but a faint light was creeping up from the east.

"You'd better go home," he said suddenly. "They'll be coming to fetch you soon."

Astrid gave a start, her eyes widening in apprehension as she followed his gaze.

"Oh gods," she said, not even bothering to hide her dismay.

"Oh gods indeed," he said, feeling a wave of pure terror wash over him.

Astrid got to her feet slowly, her face white. "I guess... I guess I'll see you later then..." she mumbled.

"Yeah..." Hiccup replied. Neither of them seemed able to look each other in the face. "I'll uh... I'll see if I can come up with a plan. You know... for the uh... night." They both coughed awkwardly.

"I'll see what I can do too," she said. "Well... Bye, then." She hurried from the forge before he could reply.

"Bye," he said to himself softly, running a finger over the ring in his pocket.


	2. Viking Weddings Have Too Many Rituals

Astrid had little time to dwell on her conversation with Hiccup as she raced down the road toward her parents' house. She had always thought Hiccup was exactly what everyone else said he was; a weird kid, awkward and disappointing, with only a sharp, somewhat cynical tongue for a defense mechanism. But the Hiccup she had just spoken with was more than that; he'd been sincere and, in his own, clumsy but snarky sort of way, tried to make the whole situation somewhat more bearable for them both. She had never met a boy quite like that; her friends were generally rowdy and oblivious to everyone but themselves, with the exception of Fishlegs Ingerman, who was sensitive but a bit too wrapped up in his own world to make any lasting impression. She couldn't imagine someone like Snotlout Jorgenson or Tuffnut Thorston being considerate or honest enough to admit they weren't ready for marriage, or offering to help fake a bedding ceremony.

_I guess Mom has a point, _she thought as she took a shortcut and jumped over a low wall into her parents' paddock. A minute later she was climbing through her bedroom window, breathing hard through a stitch in her side. _I don't know Hiccup yet at all.  
_

Hardly five minutes had passed from the moment she crawled back into bed, too tired to change, when her mother and several other women from the village, many of them relatives, all barged in through the door without permission, barking orders and hurrying around preparing things. Astrid was thankfully spared the need to explain why she was still wearing the same clothes from the day before; no one seemed to have the time to care about anything that wasn't part of the bridal rituals.

"Quickly, take that tunic off, there's so much to do-"

"Where in the world is the linseed oil-"

"Someone please scrub her hands and nails! Use the pumice, they're filthy!"

"Ow, that hurts!" Astrid snapped as someone tried to savagely tug the tie from her braid. No one paid her any mind.

"Is the bath ready yet?" One of her aunts called downstairs as another began unbuttoning her shift.

"Almost!" Someone called back.

"I can undress myself!" Astrid complained, but again her voice fell on deaf ears. Methodically, they stripped her of each layer of clothing until she stood shivering naked in the cold morning air. Her clothes were then gathered carefully in a basket and carried from the room with great ceremony.

"Now you are a child no longer," her mother recited, lifting Astrid's _kransen _from her hair and handing it to another woman, who wrapped it in a white cloth and took it away. Astrid had worn that crown her whole life; it felt strange to stand there without its comforting weight on her head.

"What are you standing around for, lass?!" A distant cousin exclaimed, pushing her towards the door. "Go, hurry!"

There was a large basin full of steaming water waiting near the hearth downstairs. No one bothered to ask Astrid if she was ready to bathe; they marched her into the basin and set to scrubbing her skin with a furor that left it stinging and raw. Someone began to recite an old spell or poem, and Astrid hissed as she was lashed several times across the waist and thighs with a switch of birch.

"I hate this tradition," she said sulkily as the scrubbing and whipping ended at last and she was allowed to soak in relative peace for a moment. She felt like she'd just been through a battle, and she found newfound sympathy for all the relatives she'd helped prepare for their own weddings over the years.

"It's necessary," one of her mother's elder sisters said matter-of-factly. "So the gods know you're renouncing your childhood and your purity for good."

"I know why we do it," Astrid sighed. "I still hate it. No one should be hit by a stick on their wedding day."

A cousin with dark brown hair and a blunt nose laughed. "If it makes you feel better, the men's rituals aren't much better."

Astrid thought for a second, debating whether Hiccup getting whipped was a good or a bad thing.

"It sort of makes me feel better?" she said, uncertainly. She had no chance to elaborate because a moment later her mother took a bucket of cold water and poured it over her head.

_"WHY?!" _shrieked Astrid. Instead of a reply, another, older cousin grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and began to attack her hair with a brush.

"Tangles for days," she tutted as Astrid yelped with each savage stroke. "Such a pity that you don't take good care of it. Your hair is so lovely, I'm sure your groom will be displeased if you don't look after it."

"I don't particularly care what he thinks about my hair," she grumbled, but the woman didn't seem to have heard her.

"The bridal crown," her father's sister announced, carrying a wrought silver circlet with freshly picked flowers woven into the metal. There was an appreciative gasp as it was brought to the basin for everyone to admire. Astrid had to admit it was very well-made, though she wouldn't wear it until it was placed on her head by the Elder marrying them.

"Beautiful," her dark haired cousin, a girl only a year younger than her by the name of Nanna, said with a smile. "I picked those flowers, you know. Got up before dawn to gather them."

Astrid was about to thank her when her aunt tugged her out of the bath and began to dry her aggressively with a cloth, half-smothering her as they wiped her face and hair.

"The dress and furs!" someone shouted. A white chemise was pulled over her head, followed by a long, blue tunic that was laced so tightly Astrid gave a gasp of pain. "And don't forget to bring the sword and belt!"

"I can't breathe!" she cried, and to her relief, one of the women took pity and loosened the laces.

There were several other rituals that accompanied her donning her first set of clothes as an adult woman, but Astrid was so tired and worn that she gave up fighting and just let her family get on with it without really paying attention to all the anointing, arranging, and blessing that inevitably followed.

By the time she left the house with the women behind her, it was bright outside and the whole village seemed to be gathered along the path to the Elder's house. Astrid tried to look calm and composed as she made her way up the hill, but her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she could hardly breathe. She glanced sadly over her shoulder at her parents' house; it had only just struck her that once the ceremony was over, she would no longer call it home.

"Such a shame."

"No one could have known it would turn out so... you know."

"Poor dear. Imagine, having to marry a wee thing like Hiccup."

"A travesty. It bodes ill for the future, mark my words..."

Astrid felt a sharp pang of anger as the villagers gossiped cruelly around her. No one had more reservations about the whole ordeal than she did, but she refused to accept their detached pity. If she had to marry into the Haddock clan, she would do it with her head held high. She straightened up, casting a cold, disapproving look at the crowd as she walked.

"Lo, there's the groom!" someone shouted. Astrid felt vaguely sick to her stomach as the procession of men met her at the crest of the hill. Hiccup looked as unsettled as she felt, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly as he offered her a hand. She was surprised to find that he cleaned up quite well; he was still small and underweight, but his hair was no longer messy and the ceremonial garb suited him in its simplicity. Like her, he also carried a sword at the waist, but he seemed distinctly uncomfortable with the weight.

"Hi there, stranger," he muttered as she placed her fingers in his. "I don't suppose you know how to vanish into thin air?"

"If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she breathed back.

"It was worth a try," he grimaced.

They walked up the road to the house, where the elder was waiting for them. Here there were even more rituals: Stoick and her father exchanged the dowry and bride-price loudly, so no one could doubt the agreement had been fulfilled; Astrid's aunt placed the bridal crown on her head, symbolizing the start of Astrid's new life; prayers were offered to the gods, and someone sprinkled goat blood over the couple for luck; both Hiccup and Astrid drew their swords and offered them to one another pommel first; and finally, vows were made, traditional first, then personal.

"I can't offer you much," Hiccup said nervously as Astrid finished reciting her memorized promises. He pulled a small silver ring from his belt and held it up so it was visible to the entire congregation. "I can't promise you safety, or glory, or heads on pikes, or whatever else is supposed to pass for a grand romantic gesture around here." (In the background, Astrid heard Stoick cough angrily, but Hiccup continued defiantly, keeping his focus on her alone.) "I'm not a warrior, just a blacksmith. I realize that's not exactly heartening for a bride to hear, but well... that's how it is." He paused, his cheeks reddening. "What I can promise is, granted, much less exciting, but it isn't so bad. I can offer you a home that will always be waiting for your return. I can give you loyalty and companionship. And, not to brag or anything, but I make pretty darn good weapons; you'd basically be marrying into an inexhaustible armory, if that's your thing." He gave her a cheeky grin, and Astrid couldn't help giving him a small, amused smile in return.

"It _is_ sort of my thing," she whispered when he leaned in to place the ring on her finger.

"I know," he muttered seriously. "Luckily, I know a guy."

"The bride and groom!" someone cheered as Hiccup stepped back.

"The bride and groom!"

She looked at Hiccup as the villagers started shouting and pulling them along toward the Great Hall for the feast, but he seemed to be lost in a daze.

"What just happened?" he asked her in an undertone as people started running around them, screaming with mirth as they raced.

"I think we just got married," she said.

"So much for it all being a dream," said Hiccup wearily. "I should have known it wasn't when they locked me in that crypt earlier. I never dream that lucidly." If she hadn't been dreading the rest of the day, she would have laughed at his expression.

* * *

Hiccup was never quite sure how he got through the feast afterwards. He was so sleep deprived that he kept nodding off, and it didn't help that everyone kept pushing him to drink until he felt dizzy and unfocused. Astrid looked equally exhausted, but she was better than him at staying alert; she always had a smile, however forced, ready for anyone who addressed her.

"You're good at the whole hostess thing," he noted dully as he fought to stay awake at some point in the evening.

"Not really," she said glumly, picking at her food. It was a sign of how sick she probably felt, because Hiccup had never seen her eat so little in her life. "I'm just trying to be polite."

"We're Vikings, we don't do polite," he scoffed, watching the chaos reigning around them. People were laughing and throwing things, singing drunkenly on tables, and standing up to make loud, bawdy jokes that made Hiccup want to die where he sat.

Astrid said nothing, staring down at her plate sullenly.

"Hey," he said gently, wanting to cheer her up. "I know this is probably the worst day of your life, but if it helps, I _did_ mean what I said. You know, this morning. In front of hundreds of bloodthirsty dragon killers. You might have missed it."

"What, the armory thing?"

"Well, yeah, that too. But I was thinking more along the lines of the whole 'I will cherish, protect, and respect you for the rest of our lives' shtick. Well, maybe not the protection bit," he muttered. "But you get the idea."

"I liked the armory bit better, to be honest."

"Lucky for you, then, that I can help with that. If the way to a shieldmaiden's heart is an actual shield, I can deliver just fine," he said, trying to make her smile. "I won't be much of a barrier between you and a hungry dragon, but you can use me for bait and use whatever fancy new equipment I've made you to protect yourself with."

Astrid grimaced at him.

"How are you making jokes at a time like this?" she asked.

"I don't know. That's just how I am," he said, shrugging. "I guess since I wasn't given anything in the physical ability departments, Thor had to give me _something_ in exchange, even if it is just a dark sense of humor. My dad says it's depressing, but I like to think being able to deal with crushing disappointment is a useful-" He caught the hurt look in her eyes and backtracked immediately. "No! I don't mean- I wasn't saying that _you're_ a crushing disappointment! I was talking about life in general! You're perfect just as you are an-and anyone would be lucky to have you- Not that anyone owns you or anything! I just meant- Gods, Hiccup you idiot!" he hissed, smacking himself in the forehead with his palm. To his surprise, Astrid seized his wrist and gave him a tired smile.

"You're fine, I was only kidding," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "You're right, humor helps."

Hiccup knew he was drunk, because he couldn't think of anything clever to say in return; she was still clutching his wrist, her fingers warm against his skin. He must have blushed because she let go suddenly, her face pink.

"Hiccup, I..."

"And now, ladies and gents," shouted Gobber suddenly over the din of the hall in his boisterous, carrying voice, "I'd like to raise one last toast to the happy couple. To the bride and groom!" He raised his tankard toward Hiccup and Astrid and grinned evilly as everyone shouted and drank a toast. Even through the haze of several cups of honeyed mead, Hiccup was sure nothing good could come from a smile like that.

"Oh no," he muttered anxiously.

"Now we've gotten that over with," Gobber said, "it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for!"

Astrid took a sharp breath and whispered urgently, "Please tell you have a plan!"

"I'm working on it!" hissed Hiccup.

"To bed with ye!" Gobber announced, and the crowd cheered drunkenly.

"To bed!" they shouted together. Someone suddenly seized Hiccup around the middle and dragged him to his feet. He cast a panicked glance at Astrid, but she was being pulled away by her own entourage, her face deathly white.

"C'mon, lad. She can't cross the threshold until you see her over it." Hiccup recognized Gobber's voice as he was handed off. The old blacksmith looked positively gleeful as he threw an arm (the one that usually held his hook but which was now spilling mead over the tankard attachment) over Hiccup's shoulder and steered him toward the doors.

"B-but...!" Hiccup stuttered, losing his head slightly.

"No need to be nervous," Gobber chuckled at the look on his face. "C'mon, up and at 'em, we gotta arrive before the bridal party does."

* * *

Astrid's mouth was completely dry as her entourage tugged her down the road toward the new house that had been built for them. She hadn't been to see it yet; neither she nor Hiccup were allowed to enter it until they were married. It loomed over the party, a small, comfortable looking dwelling with two floors, just like her parents' house. She was glad for it; any familiarity was welcome.

Hiccup was standing at the door, looking even smaller than usual among the village men. If she felt afraid and uncertain, Hiccup looked more like he wanted to shrink and fold in on himself until he vanished entirely. His freckles stood out starkly against the pallor of his face, and every time one of the men clapped him heartily on the shoulder he looked like he might fall to the floor and stay there.

As the women reached the door, someone nudged Hiccup and he automatically held out his hand again. For an anguished moment, she thought he was going to try to pick her up over his shoulder, like it was meant to be done traditionally, but to her relief he ignored the wolf-whistles and merely helped her skip over the threshold into the house.

_He's too small to carry me, _she realized as he let her fingers go, and she was oddly grateful for it. Astrid knew she should feel embarrassed that her groom was lacking in strength, but she was merely relieved; she didn't think she could handle being carried in front of a crowd as lascivious as this one. Even now they were cat-calling and making obscene gestures that would have made her blush furiously, if she weren't feeling so sick to her stomach.

Everyone filed into the house behind them, laughing and teasing as they tugged the couple upstairs to the bedroom. Astrid's mother and Nanna followed Astrid in and began to remove the layers of clothing they'd forced on her just that morning. First the sleek furs, then the sword and belt, and finally the tunic and the bridal crown. She stood in only her chemise, painfully aware of how exposed she was in front of the entire village as they watched through the open door. Nanna ran a hand over Astrid's arms and thighs, checking for any concealed knives, and behind her, Astrid could hear the men doing the same with Hiccup as they merrily threatened to leave him stark naked. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Hiccup, who had apparently been teased right past mortification and over the edge, shout, in a rather shaky voice, "Enough! Back off, you rabid animals!"

"Methinks that's one weapon he ought to keep," one of the men jeered, and Astrid flushed red despite herself.

There was some more dirty teasing, and loud raucous laughter from someone who sounded suspiciously like Snotlout, and at last Nanna proclaimed her cousin ready to proceed. Trying to stay calm, Astrid climbed into the bed and settled under the covers. She forced her expression to remain as blank as she could manage as the crowd pushed Hiccup, dressed only in a long nightshirt, next to her roughly.

There was a heavy, tense silence where neither Astrid nor Hiccup could move, and all eyes were on them.

"Well, what are you waiting for, lads?" Gobber yelled as everyone stared expectantly. Astrid tried to swallow but her throat seemed to have closed up. She glanced at Hiccup, who looked as though he was thinking harder than he ever had in his life. Clearly he wasn't quite present at the moment, and Astrid prayed he was coming up with a plan. In the meantime, it was clear that Hiccup wasn't going to initiate anything, and the crowd would not leave until something happened. She steeled her heart, imagining she was going into battle, and leaned forward to kiss him. It was hardly more than the tiniest, briefest touch of the lips, and she was sure Hiccup hadn't even realized what had happened, but it seemed to be enough to placate the village. There was a chorus of cheers and loud, drunken laughter as everyone started heading out the door, reminding them they would be back in the morning for proof.

She sighed with relief as the door closed and the key turned in the lock.

"Okay, I have nothing," she whispered as the last of the footfalls on the stairs faded away and Hiccup seemed to come back to his senses. "I thought I could smuggle something in, a dagger, a pin, but I had nowhere to hide it."

"They're too thorough for that. But it's alright, I think I've got it," said Hiccup, still looking pensive. "Do you have anything in your trunk that you wouldn't mind breaking?"

"Not really," she frowned. "This one is just all quilts and fabric, I think. Some clothes."

"Do any of your clothes have metal studs?"

She shrugged. "A skirt or two."

Hiccup grinned. "That's perfect." He took the lamp the villagers had left on the bedside table and opened the lid. "Mm, not quite hot enough, but it will have to do," he mumbled. "I need a stud, and something blunt I could use to apply force."

"Okay," Astrid said uncertainly. She got out of bed and began rummaging through the chest that had been brought upstairs for her. She found the skirt quickly, but it was harder than she'd thought, tearing the stud out of the leather. It took her several minutes of trying to prise it off with her fingernails before she gave up and clamped the little piece of metal between her teeth. With a grunt of frustration and a mighty yank, it finally came free, and she spat it onto her palm. "Will this do?" she asked, holding it out for him to examine. She noticed that the stud had tiny edges where it had been clinging onto the leather. Hiccup took it and raised it to eye level thoughtfully.

"Well, as it is, it's not very useful," he said, running his fingertip over the edges. "These are sharp, but nowhere near big enough to do anything but leave a surface scratch. You probably wouldn't even bleed if you tried to cut yourself with this," he explained. "But, if I could flatten this end and bring those points together, it might be enough to make a passable blade. It'll take a while though, if you don't mind waiting a bit."

"Not at all," Astrid shrugged. She didn't want to admit it but she was rather impressed; she would never have considered using something as small as the stud as a weapon. If it were up to her, she'd probably resort to biting her own wrist, which would be much more painful and messy than a quick slash.

"Hmm, something heavy and blunt... heavy and blunt," he muttered to himself, thinking. He stood up and began to pace back and forth across the room. Eventually, he stopped, his green eyes bright with triumph. "Got it," he said, grinning at her. He moved toward the window, where a new wooden chair was sitting next to his own chest. Astrid thought he would open it and pull something useful out, but to her surprise it was the chair he picked up and brought over to the side of the bed.

"Uh... I thought you were looking for something heavy and blunt to hammer with," she said uncertainly. "You can't use the chair as a hammer unless you take it apart-"

"No need," he said, picking up the stud and placing it in the lantern, next to the flame. "The stud is hollow inside, and soft enough that it should bend with pressure, even if it's not from hammering. As long as it's hot, even the chair leg should be able to force it to flatten. All you need is your own weight and the chair to manage it. And patience," he admitted. "It might take more than one try because the lamp isn't all that strong."

Astrid raised a doubtful eyebrow at him.

"Sounds kind of ridiculous," she said. "Are you sure you're not just drunk?"

"Oh, no, I'm definitely wasted," he grimaced, his eyes fixed on the tiny lump of metal in the lantern. "If I weren't, I would've come up with this hours ago, and I can feel a bad headache coming..." He paused, his mouth open, and suddenly hit himself in the forehead again. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again," he groaned. "This would have been so much easier if I just cut myself at the feast and reopened the wound here. Gods, I'm such an idiot."

Astrid gaped at him, suddenly furious at herself.

"Why didn't I think of that?!" she exclaimed, falling back onto the bed and cursing under her breath. "It's so _easy!_"

"Because you're also drunk," said Hiccup flatly. "And because it's not easy to concentrate when you're being pulled here and there all day long." He sighed. "You should go to bed, Astrid. This is going to take a while and you're probably just as exhausted as I am."

"No way," she insisted, fighting a yawn. "This is my problem too."

* * *

Despite her assurance that she would stay awake, Hiccup privately thought that Astrid was fighting a losing battle. She sat at the edge of the bed watching the lantern wearily, her eyes threatening to droop closed at any given moment. Sometime shortly after midnight, Hiccup found her dozing with her chin propped on her open hand, the occasional small snore permeating the calmness of her breath. He chuckled quietly as he pulled on his metalworking gloves and extracted the hot metal from the lantern case. This was the third attempt to flatten it, and while the stud looked significantly flatter, it still needed a bit more pressure to have the edges meet.

_If only I weighed a bit more, _he grimaced as he placed the stud carefully beneath the wooden leg (which gave off a faint burning smell) and knelt firmly on the seat. He counted a whole minute, suppressing several yawns, and to his relief, when he lifted the chair, the stud was finally flat enough to use.

_I should have just ripped a nail out of the chair,_ he grumbled as he checked the edge's sharpness, but he knew that was easier said than done. The furniture was all new and very sturdy; without any tools, the chances of taking a chair apart were pretty slim. Even Astrid wouldn't be able to break it with her bare hands. Still, after all that trouble, Hiccup couldn't help thinking his foggy, hung over brain had come up with an unnecessarily complicated solution.

_Too late, I'm done, _he thought; the reinforced points at the end of the stud were now strong enough to pierce skin, if only for a relatively shallow cut. _Better than nothing._

He removed the gloves and rolled up the sleeve of his nightshirt. It was hard to maneuver the tiny stud, but he managed somehow, gouging a surprisingly deep but narrow cut in the crook of his elbow. Immediately, a trickle of blood welled up and Hiccup took great care not to drip any as he rounded the bed to Astrid's currently empty side. He let it fall on the sheet and then smeared it with his hand. He hoped it was enough; he wasn't really sure how much there was supposed to be.

Once that was done and he staunched the bleeding with his glove, he shook Astrid awake.

"Wh-whersh the fire?" she slurred, groaning.

"Astrid, it's done, you can go to sleep," he said. It took a minute before the glazed look in her eyes finally vanished.

"You finished it?" she asked, stretching her shoulder. She glanced at the table. "Where is it?"

"Here, but I've already made the cut," he said, holding the stud up and showing her his arm. She blinked.

"Wh-_why?!" _she suddenly shouted angrily, startling him into dropping the lump of metal.

"Why what?!" he asked, perplexed.

"I was going to do it!" she said. "What'd you go and hurt yourself for?!"

"It's fine, it's not a big deal," he said, not at all understanding why she was upset. "It doesn't really hurt that much."

"I don't care! Your job was to come up with the plan, and my job was supposed to be preventing you from cutting yourself open!"

"What are you talking about? Seriously, relax, Astrid," he said, looking at her with concern. "It's just a little cut, what's gotten into you?"

She stared at him, seething, but didn't elaborate.

"Nothing, forget it," she said with a glare. "I'm going to sleep."

Astrid returned back to her side and Hiccup settled in next to her, completely bewildered but too tired to pry. He blew out the lamp and meant to wish her goodnight, but at that moment she turned her back to him and tugged the blankets so they were almost entirely on her side.

"Hey!"

"Shut up and go to sleep," she snapped. "And try not to bleed to death all over me. The last thing I need is to wake up a bloodstained widow."

* * *

As her anger faded and Hiccup's breathing evened out to her left, Astrid began to regret being sharp with him. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd been so angry to begin with; she'd just assumed that since he had done all the work in making the blade, she would have done her part by actually using it.

_And I don't like the idea of him getting hurt on purpose either, _she admitted to herself. Hiccup just seemed so _fragile; _he was infamous for always getting into small accidents and it seemed to her that it was only by some miracle of Thor that he hadn't been snapped in half yet. Besides, hadn't he been the one who said she, Astrid, should be the protector in their relationship? It didn't sit well with her, the fact that so far Hiccup seemed to be doing all the protecting. She twisted the wedding band around her finger, lost in her thoughts.

_I'm grateful he came up with a way to fake the bedding ceremony, _she thought. _And he seems like a nice enough guy, if a bit clumsy and oblivious... but if we're in this thing together, I'm not going to sit back and let him do anything stupid out of some stupid sense of chivalry. If it's my job to protect him, I'm going to do it right.  
_

She turned her head to look at him in the dim light of the window. He was curled up and fast asleep, but clearly shivering in the cold.

_Better start now, _she thought guiltily.

Gently, so as not to wake him, she tugged the blankets in his direction until he was covered up properly. Settling back into her pillow, she watched him breathing quietly, feeling worse than ever about having snapped at him.

"Sorry for being so prickly," she whispered. "I'm not used to this yet. I promise I'll be better."

As if in response, he gave a soft, sleepy murmur. Astrid felt a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

She drifted off slowly, an odd, unfamiliar feeling in her chest warming her from within.


	3. Hangovers Can Be More Fun Than Drinking

Hiccup was so exhausted after all his sleepless nights that week that he only woke the next morning when someone knocked loudly on the bedroom door. He groaned, eyes stubbornly shut, intending to roll over and keep sleeping. But when he shifted toward his right, he found that something warm was in his way...

His eyes blinked open, disoriented, to find himself face to face with a picture that made no sense. Someone was sleeping less than two inches away from his face, but it was impossible to tell who it was because nearly their entire body was hidden beneath the blankets. The only bit of them Hiccup could make out was a rather disheveled mess of bright yellow hair that peeked out over the top and onto the pillow. He stared blankly at the shapeless lump, trying to understand who and what he was looking at. He had a nagging feeling that there was something important he had forgotten, but his head felt oddly light and uncooperative.

The knocking started again.

"Astrid? Hiccup? You two alright in there?"

_Astrid, _he realized slowly, not quite noticing the voice outside the door. He still couldn't see anything besides the hair and the gentle rising and falling that meant someone was asleep and breathing deeply, but he was certain it was her. _Why_ he was certain was a much more difficult thought to work around; it was as though he had a thick fog preventing him from accessing most of his mental capabilities.

_Why's Astrid in my house...? _he kept asking himself, fighting to keep his eyes open. But it was no good, his head felt so heavy, and the pillow so comfortable... He'd worry about Astrid later, when he was awake...

"Oy, if you lot don't respond in five minutes we'll unlock the door and storm in anyway, so you'd better hope you're decent!" There was another loud knock. Hiccup wished they would go away... Didn't they know he'd been up all night making that blade-

He sat up suddenly, fully alert, and immediately regretted it.

"Argh!" he cried involuntarily, pressing his hands to his temples. Moving had caused his head to pound so hard that his vision began pulsing with excruciating white lights to the rhythm of his heart. Bile rose in his throat, a horrible combination of nausea and sheer pain making him feel sicker than he had ever felt in his life.

"Mm... Hiccup?" said a sleepy voice next to him. There was a loud yawn and a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, just... ugh... peachy," he moaned, screwing his eyes shut in the vain hope that it would make the lights go away.

He heard the sound of sheets being thrown off hastily and then an equal cry of pain.

"Thor's bloody hammer!" she cursed weakly in a muffled voice a moment later, and Hiccup was sure she had clamped her hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt not to retch all over the sheets.

Hiccup took several deep breaths, trying not to think too hard about being sick, and opened his eyes reluctantly. To his relief, the white lights were more bearable now. He glanced at Astrid, trying hard not to move his head too quickly. She looked quite as awful as he felt; her eyes were ringed with dark circles, her hair sticking out in every direction, and her face was distinctly pale.

"I will track down every person who poured me a drink last night and-," he was suddenly overcome with nausea again and had to stop talking so he could concentrate on keeping his breathing even.

"Whatever you were going to say, I'll do hundred fold. My head is killing me," groaned Astrid.

"Welcome to my hell," Hiccup managed.

She opened her mouth to reply but was cut short by the sound of the door unlocking and being pushed open.

"Time's up, we're coming in!" said the voice.

Two women strode into the room; one, the tall, broad-shouldered woman with a warm smile, Hiccup recognized as Ylva Hofferson, Astrid's mother, and the other seemed to be one of her aunts, though her name was currently escaping him.

"Good morning, you two," said Ylva kindly. The aunt behind her took one good look at them, raised an eyebrow, and gave an amused laugh.

"Good morning, indeed," the aunt grinned. She gave Hiccup a wink; he flushed despite himself. They were both horribly hungover, but he knew that if Astrid's bed-hair and rumpled chemise were anything to go by, they both probably looked like they'd had a particularly boisterous night.

"Please go away," Astrid said miserably, swaying slightly. "I don't want to throw up in front of an audience."

"I'm sorry, dears," Astrid's mother said sympathetically, stepping forward to rub her daughter's back gently. "I know you're both exhausted and not feeling your best, but it's late, and the Elders are tired of waiting."

"Aye," the other woman said, becoming serious. "You were supposed to be up hours ago; we came to check in on you at least three times but there was never any response, and my sister here insisted on letting you rest as long as you were allowed."

"Yes, well, I thought they could use a bit of a lie in," Ylva said, giving them both a small, understanding nod. "And it looks like I was right. But don't worry, this isn't a social visit; we'll just take what we came for and we'll get out of your hair."

Astrid nodded, and with a fierce, determined expression, she swung her legs out of bed. Hiccup tried his best to get to his feet and would have collapsed, if Astrid hadn't had the presence of mind to catch him before he hit the floor.

"Thanks," he murmured feebly, wondering how on Earth she had moved fast enough to reach him while she was clearly just as indisposed as he was.

"I'll never let you drink again if you promise to do the same for me," she grimaced as she helped him get to his feet.

"Sorry lads, but you do have to finish an entire barrel before the month is over," Astrid's aunt said as she tugged the bloodied sheet off the bed. Astrid groaned.

"I'll throw mine out if you will," Hiccup muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Deal," she whispered. They shook hands behind their backs so Astrid's relatives couldn't see.

"Well, everything looks in order," said the aunt with satisfaction as she folded up the sheet and tucked it under her arm. She gave them a lascivious smile. "If all goes well there'll be some little Hofferson-Haddock feet scampering up and down those stairs soon."

"Auntie!" Astrid said sharply. Hiccup tried to pretend he hadn't understood, but his face, which was the same shade of scarlet as Astrid's, was doing him no favors.

"Oh don't mind her," Ylva said as the aunt went downstairs, laughing merrily the whole way. "Signy loves teasing people." She embraced Astrid tightly. "Okay, my little Valkyrie, I'll come check on you later this week. And you," she said kindly, turning to Hiccup and giving him a tremendous hug that crushed the breath out of his lungs. "Welcome to the family, Hiccup. Take care of my Astrid, won't you?"

Hiccup tried to respond but was only able to produce a faint wheezing sound.

"Mom, you're crushing him!" Astrid protested suddenly. "Seriously, he can't breathe!"

"Oh! My..." her mother said, letting Hiccup go immediately. He gasped for air; his ribs felt bruised.

"I'm fine," he lied shakily. He had never felt less fine in his life, and he'd broken bones before.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Ylva said apologetically, patting his shoulder with care. "I'm sure you will, uh, toughen up a bit, now that you have Astrid."

As she left and both he and Astrid staggered back into bed with unspoken agreement, Hiccup couldn't help feeling like he'd been rather battered over the last day or so.

_I really hope this isn't what my life is going to be like from now on, _he winced, rubbing his ribs and trying to lie as still as possible to prevent his headache from worsening._  
_

"I've decided what I'm going to do with everyone who made us drink," Astrid groused irritably a few minutes later.

"What?"

"I'm going to throw up in all their boots."

Hiccup would have laughed if the image wasn't so pointedly nauseating.

"Please save your admittedly appropriate plans for later," he pleaded. "Preferably after I've stopped feeling like someone's been bashing me in the head with a mace for the last three hours."

* * *

It was long past noon when they finally got out of bed, still feeling ill but at least no longer nauseous. Hiccup dug out a clean tunic and trousers from his trunk and headed downstairs to change on his own initiative, leaving Astrid with some much appreciated privacy as she donned a new knee-length tunic and spent several excruciating minutes trying to comb the tangles out of her hair.

_I'm never sleeping without braiding it again, _she winced as the brush yanked through the last of the knots and began to braid the strands over her shoulder. Every tug on her scalp was magnified by the awful headache that persisted no matter how long she slept, but she refused to go downstairs and embarrass herself on her first day as a married woman. _If anyone comes to visit, my hair is the first thing they'll criticize__, _she reminded herself. She wasn't worried about what Hiccup thought; she just didn't want to give anyone in the village to have an excuse to look down on or pity her.

By the time she was as tidied up as she could manage with a headache and left the room, a delicious smell was wafting through the house. She paused on the landing and looked over the simple railing to see Hiccup's reddish brown hair hovering over the hearth.

"Breakfast," he said, gesturing at a pot bubbling in the fire as she joined him at the small wooden table. He looked tired and drawn, like he hadn't slept in a week, but he still managed a friendly sort of smile as he pushed the water jug toward her. "Drink," he said, pointing at a wooden cup on the table. "It's just water, but it should help. At least, that's what my Dad says."

"I'll drink anything as long as it's not mead," said Astrid gruffly. She downed two cups quickly and was refilling for a third when Hiccup ladled food into her bowl and set it in front of her.

"Fish soup," he explained as he served himself. "I figured something light would be easier to eat right now."

"Thanks," she said gratefully, picking up her spoon.

"I have some bread too, if you want it."

"A little bit is fine."

He rummaged in a basket near the fire and pulled out a loaf of hard bread.

"It's a little bit stale," he frowned, but she shrugged and said, "The soup will soften it."

He set the loaf down between them and sat across from her, watching as she tore a chunk of bread for herself. She dipped the chunk in the broth and began to eat. Hiccup followed her lead.

"Ohhh, I hate you," she groaned a second later. "This is delicious, damn it. It's not fair."

He chuckled, pleased. "I'd say it's pretty fair; I had to be good at a couple of things, at least. Even if they're not all that useful."

"Who said cooking isn't useful?" she asked. She stared down into her bowl and couldn't help feeling annoyed. "I was kinda hoping you were exaggerating when you said you could cook," she muttered grudgingly.

"What? Why?" Hiccup asked, bewildered, the spoon paused halfway to his mouth. "Isn't it better to have a decent cook between the two of us? Why would you want to eat bad food all your life?"

"I didn't want to eat bad food, I just..." she mumbled the rest, but Hiccup seemed to catch it nonetheless.

"Didn't want to lose?" he repeated. He gave her a searching look. "You're pretty competitive, huh."

"So what if I am?!" she said irritably. "I've always been good at everything, and you're just lucky I never received proper bridal training, or I'd never lose to you."

"How modest," Hiccup grinned. "But you do realize it's not a competition?"

"Everything is a competition," she insisted, jabbing her spoon in the air at him. "Everything."

"If that's the case, you just lost to me again," he said, his cheek twitching with a smile. He held up his bowl, which was empty. Astrid's bowl was still half-full.

"Th-That doesn't count!" she argued, "You ate while I was talking!"

Hiccup laughed, his nose crinkling so that his whole face seemed to light up. Despite the pallor and the dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Astrid couldn't remember ever seeing him so lively.

"You just said _everything _is a competition, Astrid. Too late to change your mind now."

Still chuckling, he rose to his feet and set his bowl down in the washbasin. Astrid finished eating slowly as he washed the dishes, surprised at herself. Normally she would be furious for being laughed at, and more so for being beaten as a result of her own assertion. But seeing Hiccup smile, a real smile, not just a snarky, self-deprecating grin or a kind, empathetic gesture done for her sake...

_He looks like a completely different person, _she mused, playing with the dregs in her bowl absently. _Almost like..._

"Finished?"

She blinked. He was holding out his hand for her bowl and spoon, the corner of his mouth still lifted in amusement.

"Oh, yeah," she said, and he took the dishes from her. She shook herself back to relative alertness as soon as he turned his back. There was a lot to do today, and it wouldn't do to waste any more time on silly things like whether or not she'd briefly thought Hiccup, that same, gangly, awkward stick of a boy she'd never so much as looked twice at, looked fairly attractive when he smiled.

* * *

"Where should we put these?"

Hiccup looked up from his trunk full of old sketchbooks. Astrid was holding up an armful of cloaks and furs. He recognized several of his own pieces.

"Uh, my dad always hung ours near the door. Pick a couple and leave the rest upstairs, I guess?"

Already the house was looking much homier: the two of them had spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking and tidying up. Newlyweds weren't supposed to leave home for at least a day or two after the ceremony; they were supposed to preoccupy themselves with drinking and spending time together for as long as the traditional barrel of mead lasted, but since they were so young, they'd been told one day was more than enough.

But they still had to finish the barrel before the month was out.

Hiccup had no intention of drinking during the day; his head still hurt terribly from all the mead they'd forced down his throat at the feast, and the most he was willing to attempt was a tankard of watered-down mead before bed each night, if only because he would feel guilty throwing out an entire barrel that someone worked so hard to make. Astrid seemed equally uninterested in following tradition to the letter, which was fine by him. He much preferred the calm, almost friendly atmosphere that came from working on something together; he doubted they'd get along as well if they were still drunk, at least if Astrid's bizarre reaction the night before was anything to go by.

_Being tired and drunk is unpleasant for anyone, I guess, _he thought, deciding not to worry too much about it. He leafed through some of his old sketches, not really seeing any of them. _I'm glad she's not still upset._

"How's this?" called Astrid. He turned to look. She had hung her favorite shield over the hearth and arranged some of the new furniture to her liking along the wall.

"Looks good," he said, nodding. "But maybe move the bookshelf a bit to the right?"

"Got it."

Hiccup glanced around the room, making a mental tally of things he'd have to make. There were still a few unopened chests and a couple of baskets they hadn't gone through, but already they were running out of shelf space and hooks. Astrid's cache of weapons alone took up nearly an entire wall; the rack his father had made couldn't hold them all.

"Can you really use all of these?" he asked, examining the sheer variety; bows, shields, swords of several lengths, maces, daggers, even an occasional spear, and of course, her favorite axe.

"Of course," said Astrid with an air of stating the obvious. "Any Viking worth her salt has to be able to use any weapon she has on hand."

"I'll take your word for it," he said, thinking that her collection was a bit more enthusiastic than most. Even Stoick didn't keep quite this many weapons at home.

"You're going to learn too," she said coolly, looking through one of her chests.

"Say what?"

"I'm going to train you," she said. "Every day."

He gaped at her, caught off guard. "Hold it, I don't remember agreeing to this! I haven't even started dragon training yet!" he argued, annoyed that she'd never asked him his opinion.

"If you're going to be a proper warrior, knowing how to kill dragons isn't the only thing you have to learn," she said seriously. With her hands on her hips, she looked a bit like a strict older sister lecturing a misbehaving sibling. "I want you to at least be able to defend yourself. Being a blacksmith is all well and good, but what if the house is destroyed? Or the forge? You'd be dead meat."

"Your concern is touching," he said dully. "I know we're married and our parents probably put you up to this, but you don't have to look after me. If I die, you get your freedom back, anyway. It's in your best interest if I remain a skinny waif."

"Don't be an idiot," she snapped. "I didn't ask to be your wife but I'm not going to let you _die_. Even if we weren't married, have I ever ignored you or anyone else in danger?"

"I guess not..." he admitted. She'd definitely saved him a few times, even before she left the fire brigade for proper dragon training.

"Anyway, now that we're stuck with one another, I think it's important that we on the same page about this. I'm fine with you staying out of the way in a fight, and I'll defend you if you get into a tight spot, but I won't always manage to reach you in time. So, starting tomorrow, we're getting up bright and early and you're going to train with me whether you like it or not."

Hiccup sighed, but he couldn't help feeling a bit flattered at the thought that she genuinely cared about his well-being.

"Alright," he agreed grudgingly. "It's not like I _want_ to be useless anyway. I'm just tired of people making decisions for me." He changed his voice, imitating his father's accent. "You're not ready for dragon training, ye'll work in the forge until you build up some muscle; stop wasting time playing with your ridiculous contraptions and take your chief training seriously; stay indoors and out of the way; you're getting married and you're gonna like it." He dropped some of his books on a shelf grumpily. "I want to be a proper Viking as much of the rest of you," he said. "I can't help being, well, me."

Astrid was looking at him with an odd look in her eyes.

"I always thought..."

"What, that I like getting hurt and in trouble?" he asked pointedly.

"No... I mean, I guess I just thought you were messing around and not taking your responsibilities seriously because you didn't really care."

"If I didn't care, do you think I'd be trying to figure out ways I could help? I gave up on getting stronger ages ago; even working in the forge wouldn't do it. But if you think you can help, I'm willing to try," he shrugged. "Just, don't expect too much. I've had enough disappointment for a lifetime."

She stepped up and smacked him in the forehead. "You'll never manage anything with that attitude. Lesson one, confidence is everything."

"You're gonna be a real pain in the ass about this, aren't you," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"You can bet your skinny little backside I will," she grinned. "Now help me put this dowry stuff away. You're probably the one who's going to be using it all."

"Oh no," he said firmly. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but if you're gonna be training me, you're getting yourself an education on how to help around the house too. You don't have to be a a dutiful wife or whatever, I could care less about that; but like you said, sometimes one of us can't be around to help the other, it's worth learning how to at least feed yourself."

"Ugh, can't I just go to the Great Hall like everyone else?"

"Not on your life," he smirked. "If we're in this together, we're in it _all_ together. Besides, don't worry too much, I'm sure you'll learn how to boil water by next year."

"I bet I can cook way before you can use a shield," she scoffed.

"Bet you can't."

"You're on."

* * *

Astrid was pleasantly surprised to find that spending time with Hiccup was much easier than she had feared. Occasionally one of them slipped up and made a comment that embarrassed them both, but for the most part their conversations were lighthearted and enjoyable as they unpacked and consulted with one another about where best to place things.

She quickly found that Hiccup's dark sense of humor wasn't as dark as he had made it sound. He did tend to make somewhat disparaging comments at his own expense, but in general it seemed like dry quips and sarcastic responses were just how he dealt with the world at large. She quickly noticed that he went out of his way to make her laugh, or at least to make her respond with her own teasing banter, and she was glad for it. It gave them both an excuse not to overthink the potential awkwardness between them, and Astrid had started to feel like she could get used to the idea of living with Hiccup quite easily. It didn't feel like a death sentence anymore, at least.

_We could have a good life, _she thought as she moved their food provisions into the little storeroom under the house. _Or at least, a comfortable one._

If he could just bulk up a bit, enough to allow her some freedom from the task of being a full-time guardian, she had hope that things could go well, even without love. They could learn to be a good team, if they tried. Astrid hoped he would.

"Astrid, food's ready," called Hiccup.

"Coming!"

Dinner was just as good as breakfast, and once they'd cleaned up, Hiccup sat down at the table with his sketchbook and a piece of charcoal while she sharpened her axe.

"What are you drawing?" she asked, leaning over to look as she put down her whetstone.

"Mm, one second," he said, tongue between his teeth as he sketched. He was quite good; the pages were already covered in diagrams and doodles she could easily distinguish. He paused, frowning slightly, and rubbed a line away with his hand. "I'm trying to come up with a design for a fireproof shield. We go through the wooden ones like crazy."

"There's always metal," she suggested.

"They melt in sustained dragonfire," he said. "And they're usually too heavy to use effectively. I'm trying to make something a bit easier to lift, without sacrificing defensive capability."

"How would you do that?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "I've tried making parts of the shield thinner and using a few different alloys, but nothing's worked so far. It's also kind of hard to judge how they'll do against actual dragons."

Astrid examined the drawing curiously. It was an oddly shaped design, somewhat elongated to the sides. "That looks pretty good," she noted.

"Thanks, I just hope it works. Not a lot of my ideas work out in the end. Dad thinks I'm wasting my time."

"Can I see?" asked Astrid, pointing at the book.

"Sure," said Hiccup, looking somewhat nervous as she started flipping through the pages.

She was impressed by what she saw. She'd seen a few of his contraptions over the years, but she'd never considered all the work and ingenuity he'd put into them. They weren't just silly gimmicks; some of his ideas would be brilliant, if he could just work out the kinks. "You like making things, don't you?" she said as she paused on a diagram for what looked like a new kind of animal trap.

"I've always been good with my hands," he admitted. "It's the same reason I can cook. Still, making things isn't very helpful when I can't use them to help out."

"I don't think that's true," said Astrid truthfully. "Some of these look like they would be really useful." She closed the book and passed it back to him across the table. "And it's not just that you're good with your hands; not just anyone can come up with ideas like these."

Hiccup blushed furiously; clearly he didn't get much in the way of praise.

"Y-yeah? You think so?"

She gave him an encouraging nod. She was starting to get a sense of just how unfairly low his self-esteem was.

"Definitely."

"I mean... I do think that the stuff I make is pretty good, or at least, might be pretty good, with some work, but... well, no one has ever thought they were anything but a pointless waste of time, and since nothing ever seems to actually do what I want it to do in the end..."

"Well I don't think they're a waste of time, and you shouldn't either. Confidence is everything, remember? Keep at it."

"Right," he said uncertainly. Astrid gave him an exasperated look, but didn't think it wise to push further, in case she made things worse. Instead, she changed the topic slightly.

"So, that armory thing..."

He grinned. "You have anything in mind?"

"Not yet, but I would definitely be interested if you managed to pull off that fireproof shield thing."

"In that case, you'll be the first person on the list to know when I've got it to work," Hiccup promised.

"I'll hold you to that," said Astrid. She glanced out the open window. It was already dark. "If we're going to wake up early to train, we should go to bed soon," she noted.

"Wow, a whole day gone already," he remarked, sounding genuinely surprised. He got up to pull the shutters closed. "Want a nightcap?"

"Just a little is fine," Astrid sighed, giving her axe one last swipe with the stone. "We'll never get through that barrel if we don't start chipping away at it. But water it down, I don't think I can deal with another hangover like this one."

"Imagine the mess we'd be in if we drank as much as we're supposed to," he chuckled as he poured her a mug of water and topped it off with a bit of mead. "We'd be catatonic."

"Thanks," she said, accepting it. "Catatonic is what we'd be only after we burned the house down," she scoffed.

"One of my dad's cousins actually did that," Hiccup said seriously. "Got so drunk she and her groom thought it would be fun to spar using lit torches."

Astrid gave a snort. "Whoever came up with these wedding rituals was definitely just as drunk as your dad's cousin."

"The gods came up with them, technically, so I guess you can complain to Odin that they need to cut down on the mead when you get to Valhalla."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I'm on the verge of death," she grinned as she drained her mug and imagined the look on the faces of the gods sitting at Odin's table if a mere mortal suddenly came up to them and told them they couldn't drink anymore.


	4. Friends? More Like Emotional Turmoil

It was just as well that both Hiccup and Astrid were still nursing headaches when they settled into bed together for the second night, because Hiccup was sure he would be far more self-conscious about the situation of he didn't feel so drained. Still, even through the weary haze of the alcohol circulating in his system, it was hard not to feel restless and nervous at the prospect of having to sleep next to Astrid as he burrowed beneath the blankets. He hadn't had too much time or energy to think about it the night before, or even that morning, but it was somehow harder to ignore her presence when he could feel her warmth radiating from under the shared covers.

_Don't turn around, _he told himself, making an effort to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible. Why had sleeping next to her during a ceremony that was supposed to involve intimacy so much less nerve-wracking than the platonic prospect of sharing a bed in private for the rest of their lives? Hiccup hadn't lied; he _wasn't _ready for the implications of marriage, but that didn't mean his traitorous heart wasn't pounding with excitement and terror in equal measure. He hoped Astrid couldn't hear it, though it seemed to him as though his heartbeat was echoing loudly off the walls.

He fell asleep not long after, if only out of pure exhaustion, and it was dawn when he felt a gentle hand shaking him by the shoulder.

"Hiccup, time to wake up."

He groaned and opened his eyes to find Astrid standing over him fully dressed, looking much more alert than he felt.

"Astrid...?"

She gave him a tiny grin. "Were you expecting a different shieldmaiden to greet you?"

He stared at her groggily. "No..."

"Good then," she said brightly, dropping a set of clothes at his feet. "Get dressed, we have a lot to do this morning."

She seemed to be in a good mood as she left the room and traipsed down the stairs. Hiccup even though he heard her humming tunelessly as she went. He yawned and grudgingly began to pull off his nightshirt.

When he joined Astrid downstairs, she had already started the fire and set the table, and was now standing at the weapon rack, examining several weapons thoughtfully.

"Hmm, a sword might be a good place to start..." she muttered as she pulled a blade from the rack and turned it over. Hiccup had the feeling that she was oblivious to the rest of the world at the moment so he threw on a cloak and picked up the empty water bucket.

"I'm going to the well," he told her, but she merely gave him a half-wave and continued to deliberate.

It was freezing outside, which was typical for mornings in the archipelago. Hiccup shivered slightly as he made his way down the hill toward the village square, wishing he was still warm and snug in bed. There were a few other people milling about outside their homes or carrying their own buckets back from the well, and a few of the more polite adults stopped to greet him.

"Ah, morning, lad."

"Morning, Hiccup."

"Good morning," he replied sleepily to both.

"I s'pose yer off ta work today," an old Viking with a thick white beard said gruffly as he passed. "I still think ye oughta stay home the full month, but as _I'm _not the chief... All this half-assed tradition's bad luck if ye ask me, in my day-"

"Astrid and I are fine, thanks for asking," said Hiccup flatly, walking a bit faster to escape what sounded like a first class rant in the making.

He reached the well and joined the queue, repressing several more yawns as he moved forward slowly. By the time it was his turn, the sun had begun to creep over the eastern horizon, illuminating the tops of the thatched houses and the trees in the forest behind Berk. Hiccup struggled to lift his now full bucket over the edge of the well, trying to ignore the sniggers from several people in line behind him. Face warm and muscles straining, he made his way back up the road bit by bit, stopping several times to catch his breath.

_Don't listen, _he told himself as Snotlout Jorgenson passed by laughing, carrying two buckets attached to a pole over his shoulder like it was nothing.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "Aren't you supposed to be a _blacksmith?_ Or does Gobber do all the work while you sit around drawing?"

"I _am _a blacksmith," Hiccup muttered, though he said it mostly for his own sake.

"Whatever you say, _loser_." Before Hiccup could react, Snotlout kicked out at the bucket, spilling all the water over the road. "_That's _for being a sorry waste of space," he said as Hiccup lunged for the bucket, trying to salvage what he could. "And _this_," he added, sticking his foot out and sending Hiccup sprawling face first, "that's for Astrid," he called down mockingly. "You're gonna regret thinking you're anywhere near good enough for her!"

Aching and angry, Hiccup pushed himself up from the ground, clenching his teeth. There was no point trying to fight Snotlout, though he dearly wanted to; he'd only end up injured and humiliated. He decided it wasn't worth shouting back at him either, since he now had to trudge back downhill and refill the bucket. Astrid was probably waiting anyway.

"Jerk," he grunted as he dusted himself off, and seized the bucket handle.

"What took so long?" Astrid asked as he returned some twenty minutes later, water sloshing onto his boots as he tiredly filled the pot on the hearth.

"Nothing, just a line at the well," he said, avoiding her eyes. He didn't want her to know how much trouble he'd had just getting a bucket of water home. "Porridge is fine, right?"

"Sure," she said, laying a small wooden shield against her chair as she sat down. "For you," she explained as he glanced at it. "I figure you should learn how to handle a shield before I give you anything sharp to work with."

"Right," he remembered, grimacing. "Training." He poured milk into the pot and stirred.

"You don't have to sound so excited," she said with a sound between a snort and a laugh. "It won't be so bad... probably."

"Ha!"

"Confidence," she reminded him seriously. "If you think you'll do poorly, you will do poorly. And in any case, as terrible as you might be, you should be able to improve as long as you think you can... possibly."

Hiccup gave a dry laugh.

"_Your_ confidence is flat out inspiring, _milady_," he scoffed.

* * *

Astrid had to admit that Hiccup had a point after she'd knocked him to the ground for the tenth time in a row.

_Maybe I'm expecting too much... _she thought, frowning, as he groaned and sat up, his cheek marred by a particularly nasty looking bruise.

"Had enough yet?" asked Hiccup, looking thoroughly miserable.

"No," she said firmly, helping him to his feet. "The only way to get better is to practice. Back to your stance," she ordered. He sighed but obeyed.

They stood in a small forest clearing near the village, facing each other a few feet apart, Hiccup clumsily holding up a shield to block the thin wooden staff Astrid was using. They circled one another wordlessly, Hiccup looking nervous and tired, Astrid fighting the urge to be lenient.

_I can't go easy on him, _she thought determinedly. _A real opponent or dragon isn't going to take pity and have mercy._

"Ready?" she called, but she didn't wait for him to respond. With deliberate force, Astrid brought the club down on his shoulder, ignoring the cry of pain as he fell back. She lunged at his feet, catching him in the shin. "Anticipate my movements!" she barked. "Cover your openings!"

Hiccup tried to block a nasty blow to the ribs but she was too fast for him. Within three minutes he was curled up on the grass, covering his head to protect it from her attacks.

"I give, I give!" he cried, and Astrid sighed.

"Your shield is useless if you don't move it," she said, helping him up once more. "It's an extension of your arm, not just a piece of wood to cower behind." She shifted her arm position to demonstrate.

"I know, but you're too fast," he complained, rubbing his leg. "By the time I get my arm to move you've already hit me. Can't we just wrap up for the day and try again tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not, a true warrior never gives up, even if it means death," Astrid insisted. But no matter how many times they repeated the exercise, Hiccup didn't seem to have the strength or speed to keep up with her. After half an hour of drilling, she finally decided it was enough. "We'll stop there," she said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Hiccup tried to sit up and failed miserably. "What ever happened to trying not to break me?" He looked so pitiful as he lay on the ground that she couldn't help feeling bad for him.

"I'm sorry, but going easy on you won't do you any favors," she said. "There's no room for kindness on a battlefield, and you can't afford to be complacent."

"Right... No offense, Astrid, but you do know you're terrifying, don't you?" he winced, staring straight up at the canopy.

She played with the ring on her finger nervously, turning the band over and over. "Sorry," she said again. "This is just the only way I know how to teach. I, uh... didn't actually break anything... did I?"

"Only whatever pride I had left," he groaned. He closed his eyes and took several deep, labored breaths. "I won't be able to lift a hammer for days," he said, grimacing. "Gobber is going to kill me."

"Maybe I shouldn't have worked you too hard," she admitted, giving him her arm to pull himself up with. "I'll try to be better next time."

He gave her a small, pained smile as he sat up. "It's okay, it's not your fault I'm a sack of bones. I'll manage. Besides, you have a point, I should get used to fighting people stronger than me, considering... well, _everyone_ is stronger than me. Sorry I'm such a disappointing student."

"You're not," she said, not entirely truthfully. He didn't seem at all fooled.

"You don't have to be nice just because we're married," Hiccup grimaced. "I know what everyone says about me, I know you probably wish I was a bit more... well, everything. I'm an embarrassment, so you don't have to pretend otherwise."

Astrid knelt down next to him.

"You are an _idiot_," she said, flicking him between the eyes.

"Ow! What was that for?!" he cried, rubbing his forehead furiously.

"Figure it on your own," she said coldly. She glanced up at the sun and realized she was running late for dragon training. "Damn, I have to go," she grunted, looking around for her axe.

"It's over there," said Hiccup dully, pointing somewhere behind her.

"Thanks," she muttered as she got to her feet and brushed the dirt from her clothes. She offered him a reluctant arm and pulled him up, though perhaps a bit more roughly than she intended; there was a strange twinge of annoyance somewhere in her chest that worsened whenever she looked at Hiccup. She retrieved her axe moodily and made to leave.

"Uh, see you later," she said, glancing over her shoulder one last time. He was staring at her with a mix of confusion, mild resentment, and something she couldn't quite place.

"Yeah," he said simply, avoiding her eye.

Astrid gave him a curt nod and hurried off, frowning._ Does he really think so badly of me, that he thinks I'd pretend to be nice?!_

Again, there was that twinge, and regret immediately turned to irritation.

_Idiot. As if I would pretend to anything for _your_ sake._

But the memory of his expression as she left stayed with her throughout the rest of the day.

* * *

Every muscle in his body was screaming in pain, but Hiccup somehow managed to get through most of his orders before noon. He was in a rather bad mood; aside from the aches and bruises, he couldn't understand why Astrid had suddenly gone from perfectly cordial one moment to clearly irked the next.

_I didn't say anything that should have made her mad, _he thought grumpily as he sharpened the blade of a spear over the grinding wheel. _She obviously _was _disappointed, even though I warned her not to expect too much from me. Does she just not like people contradicting her, even if she's lying? It's not like we both don't know perfectly well that she would never have married someone like me if she had a choice..._

"I don't get her," he muttered to himself aloud. "Being nice out of pity is just as bad as being made fun of."

"Oy! Less mumbling and more hammering!" Gobber shouted over the roar of the fire. "Your bride won't thank you for daydreaming all day when there's work to do!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" he called back grudgingly. Putting the thought of Astrid's inscrutable actions from his mind, he started work on the spearhead. He barely noticed when Gobber called for lunch hour.

"Are you listening to me, lad?"

Hiccup gave a start, nearly severing his fingers as he lost his grip on the blade. "What?"

Gobber sighed. "Always with your head in the clouds, completely hopeless," he said shaking his head. "You're free to go to lunch."

"Oh. Right." Hiccup set down his hammer and spear and untied his apron straps with a grunt of pain. His right shoulder was hurting so badly it was hard to believe he'd been able to ignore it just moments earlier. Rubbing it gingerly, he called to Gobber, "I'll be back in an hour."

"Off with you," the blacksmith said, waving vaguely at his direction without looking.

It was a nice day; the sky was dotted with huge, white clouds that drifted lazily like ships in the harbor. A warm, gentle breeze was blowing, tussling his hair and bringing with it the delicious smells of cooking from the direction of the Great Hall. Normally, Hiccup would take advantage of the weather to sit under a tree somewhere and sketch, but he didn't quite feel like it today. He also wasn't looking forward to joining all the other villagers who would undoubtedly be eating in the Hall and always found ways to make sure Hiccup heard their criticisms.

_Guess I'll go home and make myself something, _he sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets and heading down the road.

He was halfway to his father's house before he remembered he no longer lived there, and had to turn back. Unfortunately, someone was coming up the road toward him, and a surge of dread coursed through him as he recognized Astrid and her group of friends.

"Oh no," he said, taking a sharp turn and meaning to hide behind a wagon, but it was too late.

"Hey, there he is!"

"Look, Astrid, it's your sweetiepie," one of the twins cackled. "Aren't you gonna kiss him?"

"Shut up," Astrid snapped, and Hiccup felt a surge of irritation when she pointedly looked away from him.

"Leave them alone, guys," Fishlegs Ingerman said stiffly, but no one paid him any mind.

"I can't imagine what he must look like naked," Ruffnut Thorston said, with obvious distaste. "I'd kill myself if I had to see it. How do you stand it, Astrid?"

"Sis," Tuffnut said suddenly, tugging his sister's arm as Astrid's face went scarlet with shame and fury. "Don't you have any delicacy? She's obviously traumatized," he added in a whisper.

"Oh yeah..." Ruff said. "Whoops, sorry Astrid, I'll never talk about his scrawny little-"

"OKAY," Hiccup said loudly, angry and humiliated. "I'm going home, so just leave me alone, would you?!"

"Awww did the wittle baby's feewings get huwt?" Snotlout taunted as Hiccup turned to leave. "Serves you right, runt, and stay away from Astrid!"

"Shut up, all of you!" There was the sound of someone being pushed to the ground, and then hurried footsteps. A warm hand suddenly grabbed Hiccup by the wrist. "Don't listen to them, they're jerks," said Astrid, tugging him back. "Come on, come eat with me."

"What?" he asked, caught off guard. All the annoyance she'd had earlier seemed to have vanished as though it had never happened. Her face was earnest and strangely determined.

"Come eat with me," she repeated. "We don't have to sit with _them_." She cast the others a vicious look. Hiccup saw that Snotlout had been shoved into the dust, not unlike how he'd been pushed in the morning. It was enormously satisfying to watch him spit out a mouthful of dirt.

"What the hell, babe?!" he shouted, but Astrid ignored him.

"Er... aren't you mad at me...?" asked Hiccup, so thrown off that his own anger was forgotten.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"I dunno, maybe because you called me an idiot and flicked me in the face?" he said sarcastically.

Astrid had the presence of mind to look slightly abashed. "Oh, that," she muttered. "Don't worry about it, it wasn't personal."

"Uh huh..." he said suspiciously.

"Oh just, be quiet and come with me, would you?!" she insisted.

"Alright, alright!" he said, slightly wary; he had no doubt that Astrid could throw him over her shoulder and take him wherever she pleased.

"Good," she said, her face brightening. "C'mon then." She led him back toward her friends. "Alright, muttonheads, here's how this is going to happen," she told them fiercely. "Hiccup and I are a package deal; you want me, you get him too. And I don't wanna hear a single comment about his size or his strength or how he has too many freckles or he looks like he's never combed his hair in his life-"

"Astrid, if this is supposed to help, you might wanna lay off a bit..."

"Oh, right," she said, clearing her throat and glaring at the twins and Snotlout, who were giggling. "_Anyway, _the next person to make fun of him in front of me is _seriously _gonna regret it, got it?"

"Not even a little teasing?" Tuffnut asked, holding his fingers an inch apart.

"No."

"Not even a tiny little itty bit?"

"_No."_

"Okay what about a _hiccup _sized bi-" Astrid suddenly let go of Hiccup's hand and seized Tuffnut by the front of his tunic, lifting him up off the ground.

"You want to run that by me again?" she snarled.

"Nope! I'm good, all done," Tuff said quickly, his voice rather higher than usual.

"That's what I thought," Astrid said, dropping him without ceremony. "And that goes for all of you," she said, staring each one of them down. "Come on," she said, turning back to Hiccup and taking his hand again.

"You didn't have to do all that," he said quietly as she pulled him along.

"I did," she said simply. "Because regardless of what you might think, I'm _not _embarrassed by you. And you shouldn't forget it."

Hiccup didn't have anything to say to that. He was suddenly all too conscious of the pressure of her hand in his own.

* * *

It was easy to ignore the teasing aimed at her, if only because Astrid was so used to her friends being insensitive and rude. She wouldn't have said anything when they met up with Hiccup either, except that when Snotlout and the twins started on _him, _Astrid caught a glimpse of something she'd never noticed in his eyes before he rearranged his expression into the usual sarcastic disdain.

_He believes it, _she realized. _He's just pretending he doesn't._

White hot anger filled her from the inside, not at Hiccup and his obliviousness, but at her friends, and at the village as a whole. Hiccup had never done anything to deserve being treated the way he was. Every single day, he was belittled and made fun of, turned into a joke for everyone else's amusement. Even Astrid had taken part, in her ignorance and blind pride. How could anyone feel like they _weren't _an embarrassment after being needled and shouted at their whole lives? She had been angry at him earlier because she thought he was merely wallowing in self-pity as an excuse, and because she thought he had been insulting her, but now she understood that wasn't it at all; Hiccup really believed he was being looked down on, because, after all, didn't everyone? Hadn't she, just a few days ago?

_I know better now, _she told herself fiercely as she led him away from the others. _Hiccup is a nice person, and he works hard in his own way. I won't let people trample all over his feelings just because he's different._

"Astrid, you're pulling too hard!" She stopped, coming back to her senses. Hiccup groaned and clutched his shoulder with a pained expression on his face.

"S-sorry," she said, immediately letting go of his hand. "I forgot."

"It's fine," he grimaced. "Can we please just, walk a bit slower? I'm still sore."

"Oh, yeah, okay."

To their mutual surprise, when they found seats in the Great Hall and sat down to eat, the rest of her friends came up to join them. Astrid glared suspiciously at every one of them.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Easy, we're here in peace," Fishlegs said, holding up his hands. "I figure, if you and Hiccup are a couple now, we may as well get used to seeing you together. _Right, _guys?" He cast an equally distrustful glance around the table until the other three murmured in sullen agreement.

"Riiiiiight," Astrid repeated, unconvinced.

"We're your friends, Astrid," Fishlegs shrugged. "Just because you're married doesn't mean we don't want to hang out anymore."

She looked at his wide, friendly face and knew he was telling the truth.

"Well, alright," she conceded, and Fishlegs beamed at her.

"Great! So, Hiccup, we haven't talked properly in years-"

"Yeah, not since we were like, ten," Hiccup admitted, still looking rather apprehensive. "And then you told me I wasn't big enough to play with the rest of you..."

Fishlegs coughed awkwardly. "Er... right..."

Someone tugged at Astrid's sleeve and she turned her attention away from the two boys.

"Okay we can't make fun of him," Ruff said in a low, conspiratorial voice, "but I can still ask you stuff about him, right?"

Astrid frowned.

"Like what?"

"Like what it's like to be married, obviously," Ruff scoffed. "You know, girl talk, or whatever."

"Since when do you care about girl talk?" said Astrid, bemused.

"Since now. C'mon, I'm dying here, tell me all about it."

"About what, exactly?" Astrid asked slowly; she had a faint feeling she knew what Ruff wanted to know, and she was not going to help her get there.

"You know... the _good _stuff, like..." she leaned in and whispered into Astrid's ear. Astrid choked on her drink.

"That's none of your business!" she cried, feeling distinctly hot around the ears.

"Oh come oooon, it's just little ol' me, you can tell _me_," Ruff whined, her expression so eager she looked a bit like a dog waiting for a treat. "Okay fine, is he at least a good kisser? Like, swoon-worthy? Or is he really bad?"

Astrid sputtered on her own words, unable to articulate.

"Th-That...!"

"Ooh, is that a yes or a no?!" Ruff said, almost bouncing on her seat in excitement. "Wait, yes to being bad, or yes to being good?" she paused, confused.

"What are you two talking about?" Tuff asked, butting in curiously.

"I'm trying to get Astrid to tell me if Hiccup is good at kissing or not!" Ruff said loudly. Immediately everyone else at the table spat out their drinks.

"_WHAT__?!"_ Snotlout yelped, outraged. "Astrid would _never _kiss that... that-"

"What are you talking about?" Tuff said. "We all saw her do it at the ceremony-"

This time Hiccup choked so violently that Fishlegs had to thump him on the back.

"You _what?!" _he gasped a moment later.

"Well of course we _saw_ it," Ruff said matter-of-factly. "I mean, we were all right there in the bedroom with you, wasn't hard to miss. But you still haven't told us if it was any good!"

Astrid glanced at Hiccup, who was staring at her so shocked he looked like he might keel over. She had been right; he hadn't noticed the kiss at all.

"I think lunch is over," she said abruptly, getting to her feet. "Gobber will be looking for you," she told Hiccup pointedly, trying to ignore the warmth on her cheeks.

"Uh... yeah... right," he said slowly. Muttering a polite goodbye, he got up and hurried away with his tray.

"You are all dead," Astrid hissed at her friends as soon as he was gone. They didn't seem to understand at all what they'd done wrong.

* * *

_Astrid Hofferson kissed me._

Hiccup swung his hammer and missed the anvil by a good inch. He barely noticed.

_She kissed me and I had no idea. I didn't even _feel _it!_

He moaned, mortified, and pressed the bridge of his nose so hard it hurt.

_How could I completely miss something that important?! _

He knew why she'd done it, of course. He was under no illusions about what it had meant. Some form of intimacy was needed before the crowd at a bedding ceremony would retreat. A kiss was usually the easiest way to go about it, though unfortunately Hiccup had seen drunk couples go much further. He hadn't thought too hard about why the crowd had left because he was preoccupied with the problem of how to get blood on the sheets. He wracked his brain, trying to force himself to remember, but it was pointless.

_Gods, Hiccup, you fool, _he thought miserably as he accidentally poured molten metal directly into the trough. _What kind of idiot forgets their own first kiss?!_

* * *

**Author's note: **Hey everyone, thank you for taking the time to read my story! I'm so happy to hear what each and every one of you have to say, and though I don't reply all that often (I'm very socially anxious, and I get so excited/overwhelmed/unsure how to respond that I just stress myself right into avoidance) I do appreciate all your kind words and your reactions. I hope you'll continue to follow and read _You and I Have Been Through it All _until the end, and I look forward to hearing from you, even if it is just to say you are having fun!

Lots of introverted love,

Hadi


	5. Liking One's In-Laws is an Exception

Life quickly took on the quality of an established routine in the first week of their marriage. Nights were easily the most uncomfortable, at least after Hiccup learned about the kiss. Before that, Hiccup and Astrid had slept at a normal distance from each other, neither touching nor avoiding the other, but still relatively close. Starting on the third night, however, Astrid noticed that Hiccup was now making a point of sleeping at the very edge of the bed, leaving a huge, uncrossable void in the space between them. Astrid couldn't help being somewhat hurt by the sudden distance; she wondered if he might be trying to be considerate, but she felt distinctly snubbed. And, if she were honest with herself... it was surprisingly lonely, waking up to find him as far from her as he could get.

But Astrid's pride would not let her bring this up. She was not going to complain just because a boy, husband or not, wouldn't sleep next to her, and she certainly wasn't going to admit it bothered her. It was probably for the best, she reasoned. After all, he wasn't trying to force her into anything (not that he or anyone else _could_), and that was one less thing she didn't have to worry about. Yes, Astrid decided, it _was_ a good thing that her bridegroom was a considerate person and taking her feelings into account. The twinge in her chest had nothing to do with loneliness or rejection. It probably had nothing to do with Hiccup at all.

Astrid told herself this so often she was starting to believe it.

Interestingly, Hiccup showed no sign of avoiding her during the day. In the mornings, they woke up at dawn, had breakfast, and trained together for a while (Hiccup hadn't improved much, but Astrid was determined to get him into shape no matter what it took) before she had to leave for the arena. Hiccup spent the hour he had to himself before work tidying up around the house. In the afternoon, they had lunch together, sometimes in the disgruntled company of Snotlout and the others (most of whom seemed to be trying to keep their opinions to themselves, though Snotlout had found himself at the mercy of Astrid's axe several times since), and occasionally by themselves at home or outdoors in the shade. In the evenings, Hiccup started teaching Astrid how to cook, and after spending a few hours chatting amicably across the table while they worked quietly at their own hobbies, they had a reluctant drink and went to bed. There was nothing particularly unusual about Hiccup's interactions with her during these times, except that he seemed determined not to bring up the topic of the kiss at all. If the conversation accidentally strayed too close to the bedding ceremony, or to any intimacy at all, Hiccup would drop whatever he was holding and he suddenly remembered there was something he had forgotten to do at the forge. Astrid wasn't eager to talk about it either; as far as she was concerned, what had happened at the wedding hadn't really counted as a kiss. It had been an uncomfortable and confusing moment, over so quickly she barely remembered it herself. She didn't need to overthink it, and she didn't want to, so the topic remained untouched, lurking in the shadows and in the no-man's-land that was their marital bed.

Something happened at the end of the week to take both their minds off the vague awkwardness that had settled over their otherwise peaceful cohabitation. On her way back after a long day at the arena, Astrid was waylaid by her mother, who gave her a particularly distressing bit of news. Unsettled, she went home and was so distracted during Hiccup's lesson on how to make soup stock that her already poor cooking skill produced a singularly unfortunate dinner that evening.

"No offense, Astrid... but I think you burned my taste buds right off this time," said Hiccup after several polite spoonfuls. He usually kept the teasing lighthearted and peppered with encouragement, but he was looking rather green.

Astrid, who wasn't used to being anything less than competent, flushed with shame.

"I just thought, since I always make things too bland, a bit more salt..."

"This has to be more than a bit," he said slowly, prodding the broth with his spoon with a nauseous expression. "I don't think it's dissolved at the bottom..."

"I got distracted, okay?!" she snapped. Feeling equally disgusted, she pushed her bowl away. "Just... forget it, teaching me how to cook is a waste of time."

"Don't say that," he said gently as he got up to clear the table. "You'll get the hang of it, you just have to keep practicing."

"All the practice in the world won't help now," she said, feeling both irritable and uncharacteristically sorry for herself. "You should make dinner tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? It's not my turn until the day after," he said, pouring water into the basin. "That was the arrangement, wasn't it? That you practice on your day off?"

"Yeah, I know... but I don't want my parents to know how disgraceful my cooking is," she muttered.

"Why would your parents-" Hiccup dropped a wooden cup with a thud. "Your parents are coming _tomorrow_?! For _dinner?!"_ he exclaimed, rounding on her with a look of panic.

"I just found out," she groaned, dropping her head into her arms. "My mother came to tell me after training."

"You couldn't tell her it was a bad time?!"

Astrid glared at him and he had the decency to look abashed.

"Right, okay, laws of hospitality and all that..." said Hiccup, nervously tapping his fingers against the washbasin. "Okay, we're fine! No reason to panic. We're doing alright... aren't we?"

"About as fine as two kids in an arranged marriage can be," said Astrid glumly.

"Which is pretty good! No one expects us to be disgustingly affectionate or anything, and there's no way they can know we haven't..." He paused, his focus suddenly on scrubbing the pot as thoroughly and loudly as possible. "A-anyhow, we shouldn't have any problems. Er... probably."

"I hope so... my mom said that my dad has been in a foul mood ever since the wedding, and he keeps talking about bringing me back home."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Hiccup frowned. "If there was a way to break the betrothal without instigating a blood feud, we would have done it before the ceremony."

"That's just it," said Astrid. "When my father loses himself to one of his rages, he forgets all reason. If he's upset enough, he may not even care anymore if Stoick declares a blood feud between our clans; I don't think he's quite there yet, but..." She paused, twisting her wedding band around her finger restlessly. "He... well, he doesn't... doesn't like you very much," she admitted. "If he loses his temper over dinner, he might do something... extreme."

"Extreme how?"

"Like trying to drag me home by force. Or bullying you into accepting an annulment."

"There's no way anyone could drag you anywhere," he snorted. His voice became serious. "As for an annulment, Viking weddings are nearly impossible to dissolve, unless..." Hiccup said, frowning.

"Unless they were never legitimate in the first place..." finished Astrid dully.

The heavy, unspoken awkwardness settled over them again, the only sound in the silence the steady dripping of water.

"He can't know unless one of us tells him," Hiccup said after a moment. "And I... I swear I won't, unless..." He glanced back at her, conflicted. "Not unless _you..._ want a... an annulment...?"

Astrid paused.

"If I thought it were possible," she began slowly, "I would've considered it... at first."

"At... first?"

Astrid gave him a small, forlorn smile. "Well, we're stuck with one another now, aren't we? Feud or no feud, an annulment forced by one side is going to leave our marital status open for questioning until one of us dies. Who would marry either of us when it's not entirely clear whether the gods consider us bound or not? I'd much rather be with you than have no one at all. Besides, I'm tired of having my father dictate the terms of my life," she added bitterly.

Hiccup said nothing for a whole minute, his back the only part of him she could see as a heavy silence fell around them both.

"Well... I'm not particularly looking forward to being a lonely old hermit either," he finally said, still not looking at her. "I won't tell anyone the truth, as long as it's what you want. You have my word."

"Thanks," said Astrid, but though she was grateful, that twinge in her chest was back.

* * *

Hiccup was normally quite confident in his cooking, but making dinner for Astrid's parents was a terrifying prospect, especially when it might mean the undoing of his short-lived marriage. Quite apart from becoming ineligible to marry again, or even losing his right to succeed his father as chief, Hiccup didn't think he could go through an annulment just after he and Astrid seemed to have found a semi-comfortable coexistence. She even seemed to sort of, _kind of_, like him, which was more than he could say for anyone, ever. Whatever Astrid said about it, Hiccup suspected that he might be a bit more unwilling to end things than she would.

_I mean, when has a girl ever looked my way? Other than to laugh,_ he thought grimly as he stirred the pot over the fire that evening. _This is probably as close as I'm ever going to get to having a girlfriend, never mind a wife... In a matter of speaking, anyway._

He sighed, feeling small and dirty, somehow. It had stung, hearing Astrid describe their marriage as a last resort. Hiccup knew she was right, but having that fact thrown in his face by the girl he'd married? Beyond depressing. Besides, he still hadn't managed to come to terms with the kiss everyone insisted he'd forgotten. He picked up an onion and began to peel it, his thoughts far away. He couldn't decide how he should feel about it, or even how he _wanted_ to feel about it. He had always liked Astrid, but this felt different, muddled. He was torn between wanting to remember and the fear that the real memory would never live up to his wild expectations. He was too much of a realist to discard the fact that it had been a quick, desperate ploy. But if he could just remember what it felt like...

He shook his head, feeling curiously drunk. That was a pointless, dangerous line of reflection. He pulled the last of the onion skin away and firmly prodded his thoughts in a different direction as he picked up a second.

_Don't think about that. Just be glad she doesn't want to leave you.  
_

A tiny sprout of relief and gratitude pushed forward out of the knot that was currently his stomach. Whatever her reasons, Astrid wanted to stay. Didn't that mean she didn't think he was a complete disappointment?

_"Regardless of what you might think, I'm _not_ embarrassed by you."_

Hiccup felt his face grow warm as he remembered her words, and the serious look with which she said them. He knew she wasn't being completely truthful when she said it, but it was still nice, knowing that she cared enough to try to cheer him up.

He wondered if this was what it felt like to have a friend; he'd never had one before, not really, so he couldn't be sure. Astrid certainly didn't _have _to spend time with him... Did the fact that she did anyway mean they were friends now?

"Still, being friendly is probably not going to be enough for the Hoffersons," he muttered darkly to himself.

"No, it probably isn't."

He jumped, only narrowly avoiding upending the pot full of stew. Astrid had just come home and he had been too immersed in his own thoughts to hear the door open. She grimaced as she walked into the room and put her axe and bag down on the table.

"Wasting food is also not something Hoffersons care for," she added, sounding rather tense.

"H-Hey Astrid. Welcome home," said Hiccup, trying for a smile and ending up with something more akin to a nervous tic.

"Hi," she said, sitting down at the table, watching him as he started dicing the onions with his pocket knife. "At least they won't be able to complain about the food," she said, biting her lip.

"You can tell them you made it, if you want," he shrugged. "I'm not fussy."

"No, it's better they know at least one of us isn't entirely useless in the domestic arts," she said.

"You're not useless, Astrid."

"I beg to differ," Astrid grimaced. "I'm garbage at running this household, and you know it. If it weren't for you we would have starved to death in the first couple of days."

"I wouldn't say _starved_," Hiccup said slowly, but Astrid merely gave disgruntled snort. "Look, we said I'd take care of this stuff, so don't worry about it," he added gently. "You'll improve at your own pace."

"I know, but it's just... I hate to admit it, but you're much better at this whole marriage thing than I am," she muttered, dropping her head onto her arms glumly as he worked. Hiccup nearly chopped his finger off.

"What?! No, I'm- I wouldn't- You're doing fine-"

"Fine with what, exactly?" she said moodily. "I haven't contributed a single thing to this marriage yet. You cook for us, you do most of the cleaning, you keep the cellar stocked, I've even seen you darning your own clothes! And while I'm stuck in dragon training all day, you're at the forge earning the money we use to buy the things we need. All I can do is fight, and that makes me useless when there's nothing _to _fight." She turned to stare at the fire, looking distinctly bitter.

"Astrid, you are not useless. Not even close," he said firmly, putting down his knife. "And fighting is definitely not the only thing you're good at. So I can cook, and clean, and sew a bit. Big deal. You can fish, you can hunt, you're a far better swimmer and climber than anyone I know, you can use about a hundred different weapons, you're resourceful, smart, and most importantly, you have a great sense of humor. Well, mostly great. Sometimes you try a bit too hard, but we can't all be perfect, can we?"

She snorted. "Shut up," she said, but Hiccup was heartened to see a small smile tug at her lips. Satisfied, he got up to tip the onions into the pot. "You really think that?" she asked a moment later.

"Sure I do," he said. "Sometimes you rely on puns more than you should, but-"

"You are the worst," she said, but she was laughing, and that was all that mattered.

"I try," he said, aware there was a rather stupid grin on his face.

"That you do," she agreed, but when she next spoke, the anxiety had crept back into her voice. "I hope my father doesn't use my failings as an excuse."

"Somehow I think it's mine we should be worried about," said Hiccup dully.

"Well it shouldn't be," she insisted stubbornly. "You've done nothing but look out for me from the start. You even figured out that whole thing with the stud-"

"Whoa, that never happened," Hiccup interrupted quickly, and Astrid covered her mouth.

"Right, sorry," she mumbled. "I just... I wish Dad could see sense. Unfortunately, Hoffersons are stubborn and proud, it's not easy to make them see they're wrong."

"Even I know that much," he said, trying to sound lighthearted but only managing to add to the apprehensive mood.

"I think they'll be here soon," Astrid said, glancing out the open window, chewing her lip nervously.

"Lovely," muttered Hiccup as the warmth in his skin was replaced by a cold feeling of dread.

* * *

Sitting at a table with her parents on one side and Hiccup next to her on the other was every bit as awkward and painful as Astrid had dreaded it would be. The four of them ate in near silence, staring down at the table the whole meal. Astrid's mother was the only person attempting to start a conversation, but her polite questions and comments died when the other three couldn't reply with more than one or two words. The only consolation, at least so far, was that her father seemed to be trying to behave. Astrid suspected Ylva had given her husband a rather threatening speech beforehand, and she dearly hoped his weariness at his wife would be enough to tide them through the evening relatively unscathed.

She glanced at Hiccup anxiously out of the corner of her eye for the tenth time that night. His mouth was pressed into a very thin line, and he looked almost as pale as he had on their wedding day. His hand trembled slightly as he ate, but Astrid hoped she was the only one who noticed; her father would dearly love an excuse to call Hiccup a coward. She was seized by the mad desire to take his hand and squeeze his fingers encouragingly.

"You've done a lovely job with it," her mother was saying, and Astrid, whose fingers had twitched toward Hiccup's hand slightly, hastily forced herself to pay attention.

"Thank you," Hiccup said stiffly, trying his best to keep his tone even and respectful. "We've been moving things around all week, but I think we've finally agreed everything is where it should be."

_The house, they're talking about the house, _Astrid thought, and cleared her throat, determined to use the opportunity to show how well the two of them were getting on.

"We needed more space than we thought, so it's a good thing Hiccup is so skilled with his hands," she said. "He made all the extra shelves. He made me a new weapon rack too; I had way too many weapons for the one Stoick made."

"You almost had too many weapons for this one too," Hiccup said, managing a tiny twinge of a smile and a quick glance in her direction. "I kept worrying I'd forget a notch."

"Yes, Astrid always did love collecting arms," Ylva chuckled. "That rack looks lovely, I hope you won't mind if I get a closer look after dinner, Hiccup."

"Of course, Mother," he said, looking slightly more confident. Astrid's father growled but said nothing.

"Actually, Hiccup made the stew too," Astrid said, pressing her advantage.

"Oh my, really?" her mother asked, looking delighted. "Well, why didn't you say so, my boy? You really are quite the cook!"

"Oh, no, not really," he said, clearly embarrassed. "I just throw things together..."

"Don't be modest," said Astrid, mildly annoyed despite herself. "You're really good."

Hiccup blushed in earnest, his ears red under his tousled hair.

"Thanks," he mumbled, staring at the table again.

Astrid's father suddenly scoffed aggressively.

"Looking pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you, boy?" he said. "You think getting her to lie for you is some grand accomplishment, do ye?"

"L-lie?" Hiccup stuttered, clearly alarmed. Astrid went rigid with fear. _How did he know?!_

"Don't play dumb," her father snarled.

"Helven," Ylva said suddenly, her voice cold and commanding. But her husband was too focused on Hiccup across the table to notice.

"All evening, you've been letting my daughter cover for your pathetic arse. How _nice _you are, how _useful. _If you were even half as capable as she's made you out to be, Stoick would never have had to worry, would he? If you were any kind of man, you would never hide behind her accomplishments like a child."

Hiccup seemed frozen, his mouth slightly agape, but it was Astrid who regained her senses first, a small drop of relief mixing into the storm of anger now building up beneath the surface.

"I never lied about anything!" she insisted, forcing her temper to stay in check. _Well, not tonight I didn't, at least, _she reminded herself grudgingly.

"Be quiet, Astrid," Helven hissed, turning his glare back to Hiccup. "Well? Too cowardly to defend yourself, are you? Why am I not surprised?"

"Dad!"

_"I told you to be quiet!"_

_"Helven!" _But Astrid's father rose to his feet, and Astrid knew any hope of ending the night peacefully had just been thrown out the window. Her mother seemed to have realized the same thing, but seemed unsure what to do next.

"I won't," Astrid said quietly, but she was shaking with anger. "I am not a child, and I am not afraid of you," she said, staring her father in eye with equal fury. "I am _done _following your orders, Dad. You have no control over me anymore."

Helven's great face went alarmingly purple.

"How _dare _you speak to your father like that!" he shouted. "Did I not teach you respect?!"

"Respect is earned," Astrid snarled, standing to face him. "And you lost mine the moment you decided to marry me off without a thought for how I might feel about it. As long as the benefits outweighed the cost, you were perfectly fine with handing me over to the Haddocks; You have no right to come in here and act like I got married against your wishes, or to insult Hiccup when he's equally blameless! He and I are the ones who should be angry about this, but you don't hear either of us complaining!"

"Well of _course _the whelp isn't going to complain!" Helven thundered. "He won the finest bride of his generation the tribe had to offer!"

"Won?!" Astrid shouted furiously. "The only person who won _anything _from this mess was you! You _sold _me, and when you didn't like the groom, instead of breaking the engagement, you _raised my price._ You want to talk about respect, when you treated your own daughter like chattel?! And now, now that you feel like you've been cheated, you think you can just intimidate Hiccup into giving me up?! Because I'm not a fool, Father. I know exactly what you're doing."

"Do ye now?!" her father seethed. "You think so little of me, you truly believe I would abandon you to a boy so incompetent he can't even hold a shield?" Astrid gave a start of surprise and Helven gave a cold bark of a laugh. "Aye, I've seen what you two get up to in the mornings. Absolutely disgraceful. Stoick should be ashamed that he let his son go to waste."

"Helven, leave the boy alone!" Ylva said loudly, trying to grab his arm, but despite her strength he shook her off easily.

"He doesn't deserve you, and you know it. Don't you understand that defending him just to spite me only hurts you in the end?"

Astrid stared up at her father's familiar face and knew, as she had known from the moment he broke the news of her engagement, that he was not the man she had once believed he was.

"The only person at this table who doesn't deserve me is you, Father," she said coldly.

The color drained from his face, and even Ylva, who had been trying to wrestle her husband back into control, went white.

"Astrid," her mother whispered, but Astrid refused to look at her.

"Hiccup has been nothing but kind, considerate, and hard-working from the moment you forced us together," she continued. "Mother has helped me cope with your one-sided decision from the start. But you, you don't even feel remorse for what you've done, do you? At least, not for the right reasons. And I'm well past the point of caring what you think."

"You, you... ungrateful little-!"

But a loud bang interrupted Helven mid-sentence, and Astrid and her parents all jumped in surprise as they turned toward the noise and saw Hiccup standing with both of his hands on the table; he had slammed them down as he got up.

"That's enough," he said, his voice harder than Astrid had ever heard it, but a moment later it softened back into his usual cadence. "I understand why you are angry, Helven Hofferson. I wouldn't want to marry my daughter to someone like me either. But the fact is you already have, and you're risking the lives of every person in this room by trying to undo your mistake. And honestly? It's not your call to make anymore. If Astrid wants to leave this house, I will accept her decision; what I won't accept is you or anyone else making her choices for her. Why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants for once? Because she's right; respect is earned, _Father."_

Astrid stared at him, shocked. Her father was not the sort of person to take criticism lightly, and she half-expected Helven to lunge across the table and throttle Hiccup with one hand. To her bewilderment (and relief), while her father did glare at Hiccup with what was quite unmistakably pure hatred, he did not move. To Hiccup's credit, he did not back down either.

"I will ask you once, Astrid," Helven said, clearly struggling to remain in control, his nostrils flared. "Come home."

She shook her head slowly but firmly. "No."

"You are a Hofferson," her father said in a strained tone. "You would abandon your family for the sake of this pathetic boy?! This scrawny little twig? He can't protect you, he can't even defend himself."

"So I'll protect _him_," said Astrid. "I don't, and never have, needed to be defended, Father. Even you know that much, don't you? Besides, you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?!"

"About me," she said. "I'm not a Hofferson, and I haven't been one since you gave me away. My family is right here." A sudden surge of daring had her reach for Hiccup's hand, and though she felt him start at the contact, he gave her fingers a tiny, but unmistakably reassuring squeeze. She took a deep breath. "I belong with the Haddock clan now. That's my choice, and I expect you to respect it, even if I have to fight you for it. So, if there's nothing else, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave now."

Helven stared at them both incredulously for a minute, but when no one declared it had all been a joke, he kicked his chair aside and ripped the front door open. "You'll regret this, Astrid. Don't expect us to take you back." They watched as he stormed out and vanished over the crest of the hill.

Ylva sighed tiredly. "I'll have his bollocks for this," she muttered angrily. "I'm so sorry, Astrid, I should have ripped the beard off his face but when he gets like that..."

"He wouldn't even notice," Astrid said grimly. "He's only afraid of you when he's thinking straight, I know. It's not your fault, Mom."

"Sometimes I wish _my _father had tried to get me back after my wedding," Ylva said, looking at the open door with open disgust. "Not that he forced me into anything, I only have myself to blame for that bit of brilliance..." She sighed again. "I will ask, just to make sure," she said. "You are making this choice for yourselves, right? Not just because Helven is a stubborn old fool or because Stoick might declare a feud?"

Astrid saw Hiccup glance at her out of the corner of his eye but she did not falter. "I want to stay."

Ylva's expression softened and she stepped forward to pat her daughter's cheek.

"You grew up so fast," she said wistfully. "I'm proud of you, my little Valkyrie." She pulled her daughter into a hug and then did the same with Hiccup. "And you, my boy, I can't apologize enough for everything my idiot husband said. I could care less who made dinner or built the shelves, I know you will look after Astrid in your own way, just as you did tonight."

Hiccup blushed slightly. "I didn't do much," he said, rubbing his neck. "It was mostly Astrid..."

Ylva chuckled. "How blind youth makes us," she said cryptically. "I'll get out of your way now, dears. Thank you so much for the hospitality and the meal. It really was delicious."

She left and closed the door behind her. Astrid and Hiccup both fell back into their chairs with a loud groan.

"How was that worse than anything I was expecting?!" Hiccup exclaimed, covering his face with his hands.

"It was actually better than I thought," Astrid said grimly, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "I half-expected to have to duel him."

"At least he didn't push too much into the consummation issue," Hiccup muttered. "I almost had a heart attack when he accused us of lying. I don't know how well we could have kept it up if he thought there was something there. We must have been more convincing than I thought."

"Or he was too angry to go after the obvious point," said Astrid.

Hiccup sighed and folded his arms against the table.

"Let's not do this again any time soon, please. I think I just lost ten years off my life."

"I know what you mean."

There was another collective groan.

"I need a drink," said Hiccup wearily.

Astrid raised an eyebrow at him. "There's something I never thought I'd hear."

"Even mead has its uses," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he got up. "And right now, its preferred use is to help me forget that nightmare of an evening."

"In that case, pour me two," said Astrid. "And promise me you'll warn me at least a day in advance if your father ever wants to invite himself to dinner."

"As long as you promise me you'll do everything in your power to prevent me from agreeing to that in the first place." He filled her mug and set it in front of her. She lifted it in a weary toast.

"You've got my word, Hiccup Haddock."

"Cheers."

* * *

**Author's note:**

_*Peeks over the counter*_

(Sorry I took ages to update, I was distracted by Fire Emblem.)

_*Vanishes back into the night*_


	6. Rest in Peace, Blessed Children

"Hey, Astrid, you have a minute?"

Astrid had been packing her bag as she always did at the end of morning lessons when Fishlegs tapped her on the shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, sure," she said, hastily shoving her stick of charcoal and notes on the Book of Dragons away. "What is it?"

"Er, do you mind if we talk somewhere more private?" asked Fishlegs, glancing at the twins nearby, who were cackling loudly at a joke only they understood.

Astrid frowned.

"What's this about?"

"Not here," insisted Fishlegs, tugging at the strap of his bag nervously. Astrid considered him for a second and shrugged.

"Yeah, okay, let's go."

They walked up the road leading back to town for a bit before Fishlegs pointed out a small copse of trees and they trekked up the hill up toward it.

"Is this private enough for you?" Astrid asked as she climbed onto a low-hanging branch. Despite his bulk, Fishlegs managed to deftly scramble into a fork across from her.

"It'll do," he said, giving her a strange look as he kicked his feet thoughtlessly in the air. "So, how are you doing?"

Astrid was thrown aback by the question. "What?"

Fishlegs made a face.

"C'mon, Astrid, you're not stupid, and I'm not stupid, and it's not exactly a secret, is it? Your dad is storming about town in a drunken rage most nights. He keeps insisting he no longer has a daughter. Obviously something happened."

"Oh, that," she scowled. "He can go around saying whatever he wants, he's right anyway. He has no daughter."

"Astrid..."

"Don't give me that pitying look," she snapped. "I won't be patronized by you or anyone else."

"I'm not pitying you," Fishlegs said firmly. "I'm worried about you. That's what friends do, isn't it? Look after one another when they're hurt?"

"I'm not hurt," she grumbled stiffly. Fishlegs sighed.

"You are so stubborn," he said. "I don't know what happened, but I _do _know that you love your dad. Whatever falling out you've had is going to leave scars one way or another."

"I have no love for a selfish bastard like that," Astrid snarled, snapping a twig in half. "As far as I'm concerned, my father died the moment he let the Haddocks take me."

Fishlegs went oddly pale.

"Astrid, Hiccup isn't... he hasn't... he's not mistreating you, is he?"

She was so caught off guard by the question that she couldn't help it, she burst into wild laughter.

"Hiccup?! _Mistreating _me?!" she howled, fighting to catch her breath. "I thought you were supposed to be _intelligent, _Fishlegs!"

"Alright, alright, I had to check," Fishlegs muttered, his face pink. "I didn't really think he was the type anyway."

"That's the understatement of the millennium," Astrid chuckled, wiping tears off her cheeks. "No, Hiccup is not mistreating me, or anyone else. I don't think he has a single unkind bone in his body."

"That's good then," Fishlegs said slowly. "But if it's not Hiccup you're upset about, why are you so angry at the Haddocks?"

"I'm not," she said truthfully. "I'm angry at the Hoffersons. Hiccup and Stoick have been nothing but welcoming to me since I joined the clan, but my so-called Father has been acting like I eloped or something. As if my marriage isn't the direct result of his own bloody scheming, the damned hypocrite."

There was a sharp intake of breath as Fishlegs considered this.

"He tried to take you back, huh."

"More like he tried to terrify Hiccup into admitting our marriage isn't legal," she scoffed, hot anger pulsing through her veins at the memory. "It didn't work, but I've had enough of being tossed around at his leisure. He made his bed, now he'd better lie in it, and stay the hell out of my sight."

"Well, it's good to hear you're standing up for yourself. Not that I expected anything less," said Fishlegs. He watched her curiously for a moment. "You know, I'm surprised at you."

"What? Why?"

"Well, you didn't look like you wanted to marry Hiccup at all."

"I didn't," she said, frowning.

"I know. You _didn't, _past tense. But ever since you started living together, you've been unusually friendly with him. I mean, you never seemed to even notice if he was in the same room with you, but now, if he's not there, you look... I don't know, different."

"Different how?"

"Like something's missing?" Fishlegs said, thinking. "Sometimes I feel like you're looking for him even when he's not around."

"You're imagining things," she said, ignoring the little twinge that refused to fade. "We're friendly because we're friends, that's all."

"Since when?" Fishlegs asked, clearly surprised.

Astrid shrugged. "Since living together forced us to get to know each other a bit. There's no reason to hate him, anyway; it's not like Hiccup asked to marry me anymore than I asked for him. May as well make the best of it, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose..." he said suspiciously.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked irritably. "Is it really that weird to be friends with someone you've known all your life? We were all close as kids, weren't we?"

"Yeah, but you were one of the first to think Hiccup was too weak to hang out with the rest of us."

She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could go back and smack her younger self over the head.

"Everyone is stupid as a kid," she muttered grudgingly. "You didn't want to be friends with him either, even though you're both so similar."

Fishlegs fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Guess so..."

He opened his mouth to say something else but seemed to change his mind at the last moment.

"What?" she asked.

"No... it's nothing," he said, shaking his head as if trying to clear water out of it. "I'm glad to hear you're doing alright." He dropped from the tree effortlessly and took a moment to dust off his clothes. "Lunch calls," he said. "Coming?"

Astrid leaned against the trunk of the tree, feeling strangely drained.

"No, I'm not that hungry. I think I'll just rest here for a bit."

"Suit yourself," Fishlegs shrugged. He trudged down the hill and stopped at the edge of the copse. "Lonely," he blurted out suddenly.

"What?"

"When Hiccup's not around," he said, looking back at her. "You look lonely."

Astrid said nothing as he waved and continued on his way. She was too startled to reply.

* * *

Hiccup supposed he should feel relieved that Astrid had decided their sham of a marriage was worth protecting, but he couldn't shake the feeling that everything that had happened was his fault. Whether or not he'd wanted to marry Astrid, the fact was that their fathers had arranged the whole thing for his sake, for his future as the next chief of Berk. Helven did what he did because of the promise of that future, and Stoick... well everyone knew he was desperate for his disappointing son to do _something _worthwhile. Perhaps Hiccup's father thought responsibility would do what nothing else had, and bring out the Viking hiding so stubbornly in that terribly skinny frame.

_I didn't ask for it, but it's still because of me that Astrid fell out with her dad, _he thought miserably over the next week. His coming of age ceremony was creeping closer by the day, and while Hiccup wasn't nearly as nervous for it as he had been for the wedding, it still managed to send waves of panic and guilt through his stomach when he woke each morning. _I cost her her family, and her freedom. But __if I can't even prove I'll be a decent chief, I'll be responsible for destroying her future too._

"It'll be fine," Astrid told him when he mentioned he was feeling apprehensive about it about five days before his birthday. "Isn't the Haddock tradition just to sail a boat by yourself to the next island and back?"

"Yeah," he said flatly, doodling aimlessly in a corner of his sketchbook as Astrid tightened a bowstring on the floor in front of the hearth.

"You _can_ sail, can't you?"

"More or less," he shrugged, trying not to feel hurt by her tone. "I won't win any awards for it but I can do it."

"So what's there to worry about?"

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted, feeling rather stupid. He was regretting mentioning anything at all. "I just... I never wanted to be chief, is all."

Astrid glanced up from her bow at him.

"It'll be fine," she said again. "It's just a formality, you won't take over until Stoick retires. That could be years from now."

"I doubt I'll be any more prepared for it then than I am now," he muttered. Astrid made an impatient sound and returned to her task.

"Isn't it bad enough that everyone is always bringing you down without constantly reminding yourself to do it too?" she asked irritably.

"I guess... But they _do _have a point, don't they?"

"You're doing it again," she scolded. "They don't know anything about you. Be more confident. Besides, if I can improve my cooking, you can improve whatever you want. It just takes time is all."

"Well... Improve is such a _strong_ word..."

She picked up the rag she'd been using to polish the bow and threw it at his face without even looking.

"Okay yeah, I deserved that," he said sheepishly as he held the cloth out for her. She never took her eyes off the bow as she gestured for him to toss it down. Her face flickered in the firelight as she worked, her cheek smudged with soot. Her hair was a mess, half-braided, half escaping, and Hiccup noticed several burnt ends crumpled around her neck.

"Rough day at training, huh," he said, berating himself for not noticing earlier.

Astrid sighed.

"Not _rough_, really," she said, testing the string tension. "About the same as ever. No one remembers we're supposed to work together, everyone loses their heads, the dragons pick us off one by one. The adults always manage to prevent us from getting mangled, but only just."

"I can't imagine you being in over your head."

"I wouldn't be, if I didn't have to jump in and save Ruff or Snotlout or whichever idiot forgot to grab a shield that day. I lose a lot of weapons trying to make up for their mistakes," she huffed. "And I can't improve myself if I'm too busy worrying about stray dragonfire while I'm tackling someone out of the way."

"I'd say that counts as rough," Hiccup said, wincing in sympathy.

"You're really not missing all that much," she added. "I know you've always wanted to join dragon training with the rest of us, but believe me when I say you're learning far more during our morning sessions." She lifted the bow and aimed at imaginary arrow at the shield over the hearth. She pulled the string back in one swift motion, the muscles in her arms and back strained taut against her tunic. The hand gripping the bow did not clamp down, her fingers relaxed around the wood, and with a loud, sharp twang, she released the string. The bow swung with momentum into her still-open hand. "That should do it," she said emphatically, getting to her feet so she could tug the new string off. Hiccup watched in silence, unable to tear his eyes away from the deft movements of her fingertips and the proud focus glinting in her eyes.

_She's so cool, _he thought, knowing he sounded a bit like an idiot. He had always considered Astrid to be pretty, but he'd never thought about _why _he'd thought so. Now he noticed that it had a lot less to do with what she actually looked like and more to do with the warrior's grace with which she moved, the way she put her entire self into a moment of tension, how gratified and confident, even arrogant, she seemed when she achieved a good result. It was like watching a wolf and knowing no other creature in the forest could match it's powerful, feral nobility.

"Hiccup?"

He gave a start and accidentally marked a long line across his distracted sketches. "Oh, damn it," he muttered, putting down the stick of charcoal and looking down at the page properly for the first time all evening.

He threw the sketchbook shut immediately.

"Are you alright?" Astrid asked. She was looking at him with concern, a small frown on her lips.

"Y-yep, never been better," he said in an unnaturally high voice.

"You looked a bit distracted for a second."

He cleared his throat and made a point of clearing the table as quickly as possible. "Just, you know. Lost in thought for a moment. Thinking about the ceremony," he lied.

Astrid's expression softened.

"If you're really that nervous, we can always borrow a boat and practice. It's my day off tomorrow, I can come with you."

Hiccup looked up, touched by her offer even as his anxious consciousness ordered him to run. "That's really nice, but you don't have to waste your day off on me," he said, feeling worse than ever.

"Why would it be a waste?" she asked earnestly. "It would help you be more confident if you got some practice, right?"

"Well... Probably..."

"Sounds like a perfectly good way to spend the day to me," she shrugged. "I'll ask my uncle if we can borrow one of his boats in the morning." He knew better than to try to change her mind once she'd made plans.

She put the bow carefully away on the rack and pulled the tie from her braid out of habit, shaking the long fair hair over her shoulders. "Oh, _no_," she groaned as her fingers combed through the damaged strands. "I didn't even notice... I wasn't supposed to bathe until tomorrow."

"I can draw you a bath, if you want," Hiccup offered despite the panic building steadily in his heart. Astrid was too vain about her hair to ignore it, and Hiccup was too polite not to at least offer help.

"No, it's okay," she said sadly, still feeling out the damage. "It's too late for a proper bath. You can go to bed, I'll just go to the well and wash the dirt out. I'll fix the rest of it tomorrow."

"If you're sure..."

"Yeah, go on," she said, waving him off with a resigned sort of weariness. She was so preoccupied with finding the bucket that she hardly noticed the relief with which he gathered his things and hurried upstairs. Safe in the solitude of their bedroom, he closed the door, lit the lantern, and slid to the ground against the bed with a heavy sigh.

"What am I even doing?" he asked himself in a pained whisper. He stared at the sketchbook laying on the wooden floor between his feet, torn between the fear of what he'd done and desire to look again. Hand shaking slightly, he reached for the leather cover and slowly flipped it open.

Astrid's likeness stared up at him from the pages, an entire section of small, rough sketches of her face caught in various angles. He had drawn her while she worked, managing to capture the focus in her eyes as she struggled with the bow, the furrowed brow as she bit her lip with concentration, even the triumph as she let the string go. None of them were works of art, or even flattering, but it was so unmistakably Astrid that Hiccup felt like he was watching her still. With each line his trembling fingertips traced, it was as though he were being forced to face something terrible, something he was so afraid to accept that he'd hidden it in a desperate attempt to protect himself from the inevitable pain it would cause.

"Gods, help me," he prayed, shutting the sketchbook closed and hiding his face in his hands.

Hiccup had always liked Astrid.

But he was far beyond a crush now.

* * *

It was late when Astrid finally put out the fire and headed upstairs, shivering slightly under her wet hair and tunic. She felt more tired than she was used to, though she couldn't explain why. Training had been no more terrible than usual, despite the damage to her hair, and other than the conversation with Fishlegs, she hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.

_You look lonely._

Fishlegs was being ridiculous, she decided as she stepped out of her wet clothes and pulled on a clean chemise in the darkness of her room. Why would she feel lonely? There were always people around, even when she didn't want them there. She was too busy to be bothered with something as silly as loneliness, whether real or imagined.

_Lonely, _she scoffed, pulling her hair into a tie over her shoulder (It was too wet to sleep with it braided). She had never been lonely in her life! She'd been half asleep, all those times she'd thought it hurt her feelings when Hiccup slept too far away. She'd muddled her own thoughts, that was all.

Astrid crawled under the covers as quietly as possible, blinking up at the ceiling as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. She hoped the weather would remain clear tomorrow. She hadn't been sailing in a long while, and she had to admit she was kind of looking forward to it. All Vikings had an innate love of the sea, even Hiccup.

She was startled by the certainty of that statement, but a sudden memory floated to the front of her thoughts, unbidden.

_Two small children walk slowly through the sand, holding hands, as several others run ahead, shouting. The taller of the two, a girl with rather messy pigtails, pauses to pick up a shell._

_"Look what I found!" she says excitedly, holding the shell out to the other child, a small boy with a shock of auburn hair that hides most of his face. With the hand that isn't holding tightly to the girl's chubby fingers, he sweeps the bangs from his face and a pair of curious green eyes examine the shell closely._

_"Lucky!" he says enviously. "I never find any that aren't broken."_

_"Dad says you can hear the ocean in a seashell," the girl says proudly. The boy shakes his head._

_"Not with that kind of shell," he says. "It has to be a bigger one, with a hole for your ear."_

_The girl looks at her shell with disappointment and chucks it into the waves. With a yelp, the boy lets go of her hand and rushes after it, even though he's so small the waves look like they'll swallow him alive._

_"Hiccup!" she cries as he vanishes under the water. "HICCUP! Come back!" _

_The other children hear her and realize something is wrong. They rush up to her, and the twins wade into the shallows, shouting his name as loudly as possible. There is no response. The girl is so shocked she is almost driven to tears, but then, thankfully, she sees him surface, some feet away, hair plastered all over his face, which is split with a wide grin._

_"Got it!" he calls, waving his arm at her, and she sees something small reflect the light in his clenched hand._

_"There you are!" The twins drag him back to land despite his protests. "You gave us a scare, dummy!"_

_"But I was fine!" Hiccup insists. "I can swim too!"_

_"Apologize to Astrid, look, she's crying!" Snotlout says imperiously. Hiccup scowls at him._

_"Astrid doesn't cry," he says, and Astrid hurriedly wipes her face and gives a haughty sniff._

_"Why'd you go after it?!" she asks, angry now that she's no longer scared._

_Hiccup gives her a confused sort of look._

_"Because it's your lucky shell," he says simply. _

_"You could've drowned, who cares about a dumb shell?!"_

_"Oh that's okay," Hiccup says, smiling widely as he shakes the wet hair from his face. He's missing several teeth but he looks so pleased with himself his nose is crinkling. "I love the ocean, I know how not to drown." He takes her hand and presses the shell into her palm. "Don't lose it this time, okay?"_

_Astrid's fingers close around the shell tightly._

_"Okay."_

The rest of the memory was lost to her, but Astrid was surprised she remembered such a small detail at all.

_I shouldn't be surprised, _she admitted, turning over to stare at the shadow that she knew was Hiccup, all grown up and huddled at the very edge of the bed. _We were all close, once._

The familiar twinge ached deep within her chest.

There had been a time, long ago, when Astrid could reach over and hold Hiccup's hand whenever she wanted. How was it possible that now that they were closer than ever, bound for a lifetime, she couldn't even cross the space between them?

She stared for a long time, the pain in her chest never lessening, until finally her eyelids drooped closed and her breath evened out.

She dreamt that she was a star in the night sky. Bright, proud, and powerful. But while there were thousands of other stars surrounding her, she couldn't reach any of them. She stretched as far as she would go, desperate to be close to someone other than herself, but the more she struggled, the further the stars drew away, until at last she was the only one left in the darkness.

And she was utterly, bitterly, and undeniably lonely.

* * *

**Author notes:**

_*Holds up a big cardboard sign*_

_*Forgets to write on the sign*_

_*Scribbles furiously, then crosses everything out*_

_*Holds up sign and points at tiny letters cramped in a corner*_

Hi I am Anxiety and I love you Thank

_*Flees*_


	7. Teenagers Need to Communicate Better

Astrid returned the next morning about an hour after she left.

"Good news," she called. "My uncle says we can take one of his boats out for the afternoon."

Hiccup's hand slipped at the sound of her voice, and the knife he'd been using to peel potatoes sliced through the pad of his thumb.

"Ow! Damn," he muttered, putting the knife down. It stung terribly, but thankfully it wasn't bleeding much.

"You okay?" she asked as she hung up her cloak.

"Yeah, it's just a cut," he said, avoiding looking up at her. He sucked on the wound for a moment and returned to peeling the potatoes. "We... we don't have to go today," he added as she joined him at the wash basin.

"If we don't go today, we won't go at all," she said, prying the knife from his hand firmly and picking up a potato from the basket. Hiccup felt his heart stop as her fingers briefly touched his. "You'll need all your fingers if you're going to sail," she said, grinning slightly as she worked. "Don't worry, I may be a bad cook, but using knives is second nature."

Hiccup forced a small laugh, all too aware of the panicked note in his voice. Thankfully, Astrid didn't seem to notice.

"It was raining a little when I came back, but there's a stiff breeze coming in from the east," she said, discarding a peel. "The clouds should be gone in an hour or two."

"That's good," he said, trying not to stare at her face in profile. There was a lock of hair coming loose from behind her ear, and he dearly wanted to reach out and brush it gently back into place. He busied himself with washing the carrots instead.

"Hey, I was wondering..."

"Y-yeah?"

She paused, the knife stopped.

"Do you remember, back when we were kids... We went to the beach once, didn't we?"

"Oh. Yeah, we did. We all did, but it was more than once. We used to play there all the time."

"We did?"

"Sure," said Hiccup, feeling slightly more relaxed now that there was a proper topic of conversation. "Treasure hunting, swimming, burying Snotlout up to his chin in sand... Fishlegs liked to collect ocean critters, and the twins were the best swimmers back then so they were _supposed _to rescue us any time it looked like one of us might drown. I think they tried to drown me more times than they successfully saved me, though."

"I don't remember any of that," said Astrid, half-heartedly returning to peeling. "I wonder why?"

"It was a long time ago," Hiccup admitted. "I'm sure I've forgotten lots of other things from the old days. Why bring it up now?"

"No real reason," she said. "Just... well, it doesn't matter, really. Forget I said anything."

"Oh... okay," he said stupidly, self-conscious all over again. How had he ever managed to stand this close to her? How had he managed to do _anything _without making an absolute fool of himself in front of her?! He couldn't even remember what normal was supposed to be between them, even though he was sure there _had _been a normal just yesterday. It was as if he had regressed to the painfully awkward days of his early crush, but worse, somehow.

_I could run away when I messed up back then, _he thought glumly. _Nowhere to hide now._

"...thinking we should sail to that sea stack northeast and back, we don't have to go as far as the island where they're holding the ceremony."

"Yeah," agreed Hiccup, not really listening.

"I'll even my hair out after we eat, and then we can go."

"Okay."

"Hiccup, you're out of carrots."

"Yeah."

_"Hiccup."_

He gave a start, splashing water all over his tunic. "What?!"

She pointed at his hands; he had been washing a pestle instead of the vegetables.

"Oh," he mumbled, blushing. "Sorry..."

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, clearly worried. "You've been acting a little strange since last night..."

"No, I'm... I'm fine," he said, swallowing the knot of guilt in his throat. She didn't seem entirely convinced, but Hiccup was grateful that she dropped it anyway.

* * *

As she had predicted, the weather was perfect for sailing by the time they set off from Berk in her uncle's small boat. Astrid stood at the prow, enjoying the tang of the sea air as she leaned over the side and they slowly left the dock behind.

"Well, at least _you're_ enjoying yourself," Hiccup panted, fighting with the tack. "No chance of a hand here, is there?"

"I won't be there to help during your coming of age," she called back into the wind. "You have to do it yourself."

"It was worth a try," he grimaced, trying to pull the rope taut, only for the wind to drag him bodily forward a few seconds later with a loud yelp. "I'm fine! I'm good!" he shouted as he stumbled back to his feet. Astrid chuckled slightly as she made her way back toward him.

"Don't fight the wind, let it guide you," she said, pushing the foot of the sail slightly away from them. The wind died down enough to allow Hiccup to tie the rope down securely.

"Thanks," he said sheepishly. "It's uh... been a while."

"You're doing fine," she said, leaning against the railing as he returned to the tiller. "Not bad for someone who hasn't sailed in years."

"In my defense, there aren't a lot of reasons to sail when you're a blacksmith," he said, concentrating on staying clear of the rocks near the shore.

"I suppose that's fair," said Astrid, staring up at the bright blue sky and the fluffy white clouds drifting across it. The sun felt good on her skin, and she couldn't help taking in a deep breath to savor the taste of the sea.

"You really like the ocean, huh?"

"Mm," she said, closing her eyes. "I'm a Viking, aren't I? The ocean is our lifeblood."

"So the songs say, anyway," he said. "But I happen to know that if you cut yourself open, seawater doesn't come flowing out."

Astrid snorted. "Don't be such a smartass, Hiccup."

"Sorry, it's kind of my default setting."

She grinned despite herself. "Yeah, I know, I'm used to it by now." She ran her hand up the railing as she walked the length of the boat, staring over the side into the deep blue water. Once, as a little girl, her father had taken her sailing and seated her over the edge of the ship so she could watch waves rippling past them. She remembered his voice as he explained each type of animal she saw, and his warnings that she must never sail outside the charted routes, since dragons were known to dwell in the deep waters. She felt a pang of confused longing tighten around her chest.

_Don't, _she told herself angrily. _Don't you dare miss him. He had already decided to sell you, even as he taught you how to rig a sail. You have no father, Astrid. Forget him._

Her own reflection scowled back at her, distorted by the ripples and movement of the sea. For a moment, it almost looked like her father's face.

She pulled away from the rail immediately, feeling sick to her stomach. She suddenly wanted to be back on land, back in the comfort of her own home.

"I should loosen the tack now, right?"

She was startled out of her unease by Hiccup's voice. The boat had just about reached the sea stack, and it was time to prepare for the turn back to Berk.

"R-right," she said, watching blankly as he worked to untie the ropes. Somehow, she found herself staring at his hands, and slowly she realized that she'd never really looked at them before. They were relatively thin, a bit more angled than hers, but where Astrid's hands were calloused and scarred around the palms and thumb, Hiccup's were rough around the joints and fingertips. She could clearly see a bump where he probably held charcoal when he drew, and several shiny scars on his fingers, the remnants of burns sustained from hot metal. He moved them deftly, with precision, an artist with an eye for detail even now, so removed from his anvil and sketchbook.

He tugged the rope free from the knot and wrapped it once around his hand to keep it steady. He gave Astrid a nervous glance and seemed to grow more assured when she had no criticism to offer. The boat glided effortlessly around the towering rock, guided by Hiccup's careful adjustments.

"See? Told you there was nothing to worry about," she said, patting his shoulder lightly. "With practice, you could be as good as anyone. You won't have any trouble next week."

It happened so quickly that Astrid thought she might have imagined it. Hiccup suddenly stepped away from her, leaving her hand raised in the space where his shoulder had been.

"Damn, the wind is changing," he muttered, his focus entirely on the sail as he made the necessary adjustments and knelt down to tie the rope to its peg.

It could have been coincidence. The wind _did _seem to be blowing in from the south now, which meant they had to account for it as they sailed back home. Hiccup probably didn't intend to shake her off; sailing was just more important at the moment.

Astrid wanted to believe that, but...

"Angle toward the cliffs," she instructed as Hiccup returned to the tiller. "You'll catch the wind better that way."

"Got it," he said. She frowned slightly; now that she thought about it, he seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid looking at her. Even now, he was making a show of scanning the horizon despite the fact that Berk was in the opposite direction.

_He's never avoided me during the day,_ she thought, the sick feeling in her stomach back in full force. _We've always been fine spending time together, haven't we? Nothing has changed, so there's no reason to think he's doing it on purpose. I'm just overthinking things, because of what Fishlegs said... right?_

But she had to make sure.

"You're doing fine," she said, joining Hiccup at the tiller as casually as she could manage. He gave a grim little smile but still, his eyes remained fixed on a point away from her.

"For once in my life," he said in a nonchalant voice. "Dad was always disappointed when he took me out. He never thought I was much of a sailor."

"Maybe you were just intimidated because he was there," said Astrid reasonably. She stood next to him, pretending to watch over his steering. He didn't seem to move, and yet...

_Is he leaning away from me?!_

Suspicion and irritation flooded through her. What had she ever done to make Hiccup avoid her like this?!

She steadied herself, forcing her mind to think rationally. It could just be the swaying of the boat... maybe. Or she was seeing what she expected to see because she was wound so tight. If only Fishlegs hadn't made her so stupidly hyper-aware about Hiccup!

She grit her teeth. She hated feeling uncertain, and she was not the type to sit around and mull things over. Either Hiccup was avoiding her or Astrid was overthinking it all.

There was one way to find out.

Slowly, so slowly she cursed her own indecisiveness, she reached across the tiny breadth of space between them and touched his hand.

She wasn't able to do anything more. Hiccup immediately tore his hand away from hers as if he had been burned.

It hurt. It hurt more than any wound she had ever sustained, more than her own father's betrayal. She was overwhelmed by the ache in her chest, by the acute sense that she really, truly was alone. Discarded by her father, abandoned by her mother, and unwanted by her own husband. It was as though everything she had ever taken for granted in the world had been swept out from under her, leaving her lost and adrift.

"Sorry," she heard him say, as if from a distance. "Got startled..."

"It's okay," she lied, and she was shocked at how normal her own voice sounded. She remained at his side for a moment and then walked the length of the boat to the other end.

Astrid felt profoundly empty, her fingers digging into the wooden railing as she watched the cliffs grow closer. There was no other reason she could think of to explain Hiccup's behavior, though she couldn't account for the sudden change overnight. She'd grown to like spending time with him, even if it had been clear for some time that he wasn't interested in being more than friends. She could have lived with that. It had been reassuring to have someone she could talk to at any time, someone who made her feel normal and at ease in the sudden, confusing upheaval of their lives.

What she couldn't live with was the thought that even the tiny source of comfort she'd found in him was fleeting. How were they supposed to continue living together when Hiccup couldn't even stand being near her?

White-hot anger began to replace the ache in her heart. She had always been the hardest worker, the most promising shieldmaiden. She was strong, she was capable, she was the envy of every young person in Berk, and she was _proud_ to be all of those things. When had that become a problem?! Why did everyone she'd ever trusted suddenly seem intent on getting as far away from her as possible?!

She wanted to take her axe and smash everything in sight, and it was only by sheer force of will that she didn't turn around, grab Hiccup by the shirt and toss him overboard. She clenched the railing so hard her fingers hurt, but she could barely feel it.

Fine. If Hiccup didn't want to be near her, she wasn't going to beg him to change his mind. Astrid was not a child anymore, she did not need someone to hold her hand or to fetch pretty seashells for her.

She didn't need him; she didn't need _anyone. _

* * *

Hiccup knew he had messed up almost as soon as he reacted to her touch, but it was not until they began pulling into the dock and Astrid wordlessly leapt into the water that he realized just how badly. He shouted and hurried over to the side of the boat to help, only to see her swimming pointedly away, refusing to look back at him or reply in any way. She climbed onto the pier by herself, shook her sleeves twice, and stomped away, clearly in such a foul mood that no one dared say anything until she was out of sight.

"Well, tha' cannae 'ave gone well fer ye, lad," someone laughed as Hiccup listlessly began pulling down the sail.

"Thank you, I hadn't noticed," he muttered.

He did not find her at home when he returned about an hour later, but he had not really expected to. He felt strange, like he was watching himself as he went through the motions of feeding himself and cleaning around the house, too numb to process his mistake or what it meant. At some point, he ran out of mindless tasks to occupy himself with; he paced restlessly for a few minutes between the hearth and the front door and finally made the decision to go for a walk while there was still some sunlight left.

He made it as far as the woods directly behind the house before the illusion of calm snapped and all the emotions he'd been suppressing since the night before came over him like a wave. He all but collapsed against a tree, dizzy and breathless, his chest so tight he thought he might be sick. It took a long time for his breath to even out, tears of pain dripping down his nose.

"Gods, please just let me die," he groaned as he lowered himself to the ground, his head pounding savagely after the attack. He wiped his face in disgust, and his father's voice seemed to echo in his head, reminding him that only pathetic fools cried, and never, _ever, _a Haddock.

Astrid would probably never speak to him again if she knew; but in all fairness, Hiccup was not certain she would speak to him ever again regardless.

_Of all the stupid, muttonheaded things I could have done or said, I just _had _to insult her pride, _he thought miserably, lowering his head onto his knees. He understood all too well just how Astrid would have interpreted his actions, regardless of his reasons why. She was not the type of person to take an insult lying down, and if Hiccup knew Astrid at all, jumping at the mere brush of her hand was about as personal a slight as he could have managed, short of disrespecting her to her face.

"Why did I _do _that?!" he asked himself desperately, wishing he had a better answer than the truth. He had been on tenterhooks from the moment he'd gotten out of bed that morning, and it had taken all his willpower and concentration just to hold a semi-casual conversation with her, on top of all the other things he was supposed to be doing. He was terrified that if she looked at him, if she touched him at all, she would manage to see through his pathetic attempts at normalcy and _know._

If Astrid ever found out how he felt...

Hiccup was nauseous just thinking about it.

"Thor strike me from this earth before Astrid comes home and murders me," he prayed desperately.

He wasn't sure he'd ever prayed harder in his life.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

I know I'm the author, and I do see the irony, but...

_YOU TWO ARE SO DUMB WHY ARE YOU SO DUMB PLEASE SPEAK TO EACH OTHER OH MY GODS_

IhavezerocontrolhereI'mjustthemessenger


	8. Pettiness Can Be Hard to Keep in Check

The last few days before Hiccup's coming of age were some of the most trying of Astrid's life. Anger was a familiar beast, but before her marriage, Astrid had always known exactly what to do to reign it in. Arguments with her parents often dissolved as long as she stayed in her loft upstairs and out of their way, while fights with other kids her age were worked out as soon as they gave each other a good beating. It seemed a simple enough system, and yet, when it came to Hiccup, as so many other things did, neither method was an option.

She definitely considered hitting him, but though her blood boiled and she had to force herself to breathe at the thought of him, she knew, somewhere deep down, that fighting Hiccup would be deeply unsatisfying. True, she'd enjoy the first few punches, but she didn't think she'd be able to keep going once he was down. It just didn't seem... fair. Their sparring sessions already made her feel guilty; he always looked so exhausted and defenseless after a bout, like a small, malnourished bird with a broken wing. She had caught herself reaching to pat his head twice in the last few times they had practiced, and the last thing she wanted just now was to feel sympathy for him.

If fighting it out wasn't an option, complete avoidance was even worse. They had not spoken once since sailing, but staying out of Hiccup's way turned out to be much more difficult than she had initially assumed; even when she went out of her way to make sure they were never in the same room at the same time (a feat made more difficult by the fact that their house was so small), she was inevitably faced with material reminders that, short of leaving the village and becoming a hermit in the woods, she could never fully disentangle herself from their union. Everything in the house, _everything,_ came in sets of twos. Two bowls, two spoons, two chairs... even the simple act of taking her cloak off its hook in the hall each morning forced her to register the second hook heavy with Hiccup's warm fur overcoat.

She took to sleeping in front of the hearth, axe under her pillow, and she always left the house before Hiccup awoke. It upset her that she was familiar enough with his routine to at least prevent a confrontation, but she was grudgingly grateful for it anyway. Because of the feud with her father, she couldn't leave and stay with her parents, and she was far too proud to admit to any of her friends that Hiccup had hurt her feelings. She returned home only to avoid sleeping out in the open, where she was easy prey for hungry dragons, but even when she succeeded in spending an entire day without crossing paths with him, there was always something, some object, some thought, some memory, that brought Hiccup back to mind.

He, for the most part, seemed to be too afraid to face her, a fact that only served to incense her further. Avoiding him was her _right_; his avoidance of _her, _however, was the whole problem. She deeply hated catching him darting out of the way whenever their daily activities accidentally brought them within range of one another. It was like being snubbed all over again each time, a hot, burning nail hammered into her chest one cruel stroke after another.

But Astrid relished the anger; it let her focus on hating Hiccup, instead of on the twisted knot of hurts beneath it.

* * *

There was a small part of Hiccup that was secretly glad Astrid was angry at him. The tension in the house was almost tangible, stretched so thin it was only a matter of time before it snapped, but it meant there was distance between the two of them, and he needed that distance to keep Astrid and his feelings for her at bay.

It was ironic, really. Less than a year ago, having the girl of his dreams know he liked her would have been a dizzying, terrifying, but ultimately satisfying step toward (hopefully) showing her he was worth her time. He'd had plans, daring, determination... He thought that if he were noticed, if he stopped being a weak childhood friend too embarrassing to be seen with... if Astrid looked at him and saw a guy who had been brave enough to confess-

He cringed every time he remembered that childish, vague idea of love. If he were brutally honest, those daydreams weren't even about Astrid, or anyone at all. They were a way for him to hold on to a small scrap of hope that he could somehow redeem himself, and in those dreams, Astrid was the metaphorical messenger sent from the gods to affirm that yes, Hiccup Haddock _was _worth something.

So, no, that was not love at all.

But this was.

There was no other word for it. In the early mornings when Astrid was still asleep at his side, he surreptitiously watched her face in the faint light from the window, taking in the softness of her cheek, the almost invisible layer of fuzz that stirred with each gentle breath. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly each time she snored; great, sudden grunts that always elicited a grin and were so stupidly endearing he longed to kiss her forehead so she would wake and he could tease her. When they practiced combat, he couldn't help but take mental snapshots of her focused eyes and fluid form, reminding himself to draw them _just _so when he had the privacy to sketch later. He became attuned to the different tones of her voice, learned to hear what she wouldn't say aloud, and gathered each word carefully as though she were a song he was desperate to learn. He was wary of her temper but loved seeing the freedom with which she expressed herself. He grew so accustomed to her smell (woodsy, earthy, like lying in warm dirt and grass on a summer day) that whenever he was away from the house, he found himself looking for any sign of it on his sleeves, or his coat; to his horror, Gobber caught him at it twice, and chastised him for wiping his face with his arms while holding hot tongs.

He couldn't begin to explain half of what she did to him just by breathing the same air, or by inhabiting the same spaces. But he had absolutely no plans for what to do about it, because Hiccup was completely and utterly convinced there was no way Astrid, or any other human being, could ever feel the same way about him.

So while Hiccup knew her temperament too well to pretend the uneasy silence would last forever, and that having the prospect of her anger hanging over his head was far worse than getting it over with, he was not nearly as afraid of her wrath as he probably should have been.

When several days passed and nothing happened, he wondered if she were biding her time, waiting for him to drop his (admittedly pathetic) guard so she could slit his throat in his sleep.

He was fairly sure she wouldn't, though. Astrid was more of a look-one's-enemy-in-the-eye-and-watch-as-the-life-drains-out-of-them kind of Viking. And eventually, all Vikings went for the kill.

But even that was less terrifying a prospect than what she might think if she knew how close he was to crossing the forbidden line.

* * *

Summer was closing in, and the air was warm and sweet with the smell of fresh grass on the morning of Hiccup's coming of age. Astrid lay on the floorboards, watching the sunlight creep slowly up the wall through the cracks of the wooden shutters, and groaned angrily.

She turned on her side, punching the straw and wool of her pillow into shape, and glared at the shield over the hearth as though it were personally responsible for all her problems. Hiccup liked that shield. It was hers, and she had picked it, but he had liked it, and _she _had liked _that._

If she could go back a few weeks and bash her own head in with that shield, she would have done it in a heartbeat.

_You've grown soft, Hofferson, _she told herself bitterly. "Soft and stupid," she muttered, turning away from the sight.

In a few hours, she was supposed to head down to the docks to take part in Hiccup's coming of age ceremony; every member of the Haddock clan was meant to be in attendance, and because Hiccup was the closest thing Berk had to a prince, the rest of the island was sure to be there as well. It would reflect badly on Astrid, as Hiccup's partner and as the future chieftess, to miss it, but...

"I won't go," she muttered spitefully to herself. She took a savage pleasure in imagining the embarrassment her absence would case him; even if she had to pay for it with the Chief later, it was worth it just for that. Let Hiccup be the one left alone and disappointed for once.

A small twinge of anxiety bubbled up through her anger. What if... just maybe... what if Hiccup failed because she wasn't there?

She shook the thought away. So what if he did? Not much would change in their everyday life if he failed; he would need to retake the challenge the following year, but their marriage would be unaffected. It really wasn't as big a deal as all that. Especially not with a trial as simple as sailing.

Yes, she thought with angry satisfaction. She had no interest in going to the ceremony at all. He probably wouldn't even notice her anyway.

She was somehow in a more spiteful mood by the time she got up than she had been before.

* * *

Hiccup thought he might be sick. He'd barely slept for the past few days, and he couldn't quite seem to catch his breath as he went through his morning routine in a haze. Even the simple act of getting dressed felt like a struggle; his arms didn't seem to want to go through the sleeves and his fingers kept fumbling the easiest ties. He spent longer than he should have rummaging through his trunk, looking for the ceremonial furs his father had given him, only to remember half an hour later that he'd already set them out the night before. Astrid was long gone by the time he went downstairs to make breakfast, but even that didn't bother him as much as it should have; all he could think about was the myriad mistakes he was sure to make during the ceremony, and the inevitable humiliation that came with it.

He felt even worse than he had at his wedding; back then he at least had someone with him, nudging him to say the right thing, or just to share a terrified glance with. It was a small thing, but he knew now it made all the difference; he just wished he could say the same today.

The guilt of the past few days washed over him in a fresh wave, and he pushed his plate away, nauseous. He was no closer to making up with Astrid than ever, and he doubted that he would be able to any time soon. She was too angry, too insulted, and he couldn't really blame her. If he'd been under less stress, maybe, he might have come up with a way to get back in her good graces, but that felt manipulative and selfish somehow. Besides, her support now would have only made him even more apprehensive to fail. Not having her around to distract him might turn out for the best.

"Who am I kidding?" he groaned as he got up and carried the plate to the washbasin. "Whether she's here or not, I'm screwed."

He felt no better half an hour later, standing next to his father on the pier as Stoick addressed the jeering crowd assembled on the docks. His heart seemed to be stuck in his throat, and he could barely hear a word over the sound of what could only be described as his internal voice, screaming in a single, panicked note.

"Well, son," Stoick said suddenly, thumping Hiccup's shoulder painfully and snapping him out of his daze. "This is your moment," he added awkwardly.

"Yeah, it sure is," Hiccup said in a reedy voice. "I don't suppose I can just... take a rain check?" His father gave him a sharp look and Hiccup forced a hollow sort of laugh. "Just kidding," he lied through his teeth. He turned toward the boat and took a deep breath, the village shouting drunkenly behind him. He tried to ignore Ruffnut and Tuffnut taking wagers, or Snotlout loudly boasting about how he'd wrestled a bear with his bare hands at his own coming of age... as a toddler.

_Easy, Hiccup, _he told himself as he stepped into the boat and clumsily tugged the rope free. _Don't think too much, just take it one step at a time..._

The wind seemed to sense his apprehension, tussling his hair softly, almost encouragingly. As the sail filled up and the boat drifted into open water, he suddenly remembered that Astrid was supposed to be there somewhere on the dock. He turned back nervously, wondering if she were glaring at him and wishing he would drown, but though he saw many faces he recognized, he wasn't able to find hers before the wind tugged him forward and away.

* * *

"What are you doing here, Astrid?!"

Astrid opened an eye and found Fishlegs frowning down at her in disapproval.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she replied irritably, shutting her eyes tightly again. "I was _trying_ to nap before you came along."

"You're _supposed _to be at the ceremony," he said, and though she couldn't see him, she could hear the indignation in his tone.

"Yeah? So are you," she snapped, turning away from him. The grass under her arm came free and tickled her nose slightly.

"And I would be," Fishlegs said, walking around to her other side. "Except Chief Stoick made me come find _you."_

Astrid groaned. "I was hoping he wouldn't notice," she muttered.

"Of course he noticed, you're supposed to be down there with the other Haddocks."

"Bother the other Haddocks," she scoffed. "Actually, bother all the Haddocks, period. I don't care." She sat up and glared at Fishlegs. "Well?!"

"Well _what?!_"

"I dunno, you're the one on a mission here," she said. "Aren't you going to try to carry me down or something?"

"No way! Not even if Hel froze over," said Fishlegs. "I pity the fool who'd try." He sat next to her, leaning back against a tree. "I can't force you to go, we both know that. So just humor me, yeah? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, shrugging. "I just didn't feel like going."

"It's his coming of age," Fishlegs said. "Don't you think Hiccup would feel better if you were there? He looked really nervous."

Astrid made an angry noise, somewhere between a scoff and a "Ha!"

"Hiccup doesn't care if I'm there, trust me," she seethed, crossing her arms. "He probably didn't even notice I wasn't."

"I think he did," Fishlegs said quietly. "He was looking for you in the crowd, I could tell."

Astrid said nothing.

"You guys are fighting, huh?"

She shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Depends," he said, picking up a stick and poking at the dirt at his feet. "Do _you _think it matters?"

She shot him an angry look. "If you're trying to say that I _miss him_ or something equally stupid..."

"Just saying," he said innocently. "But for the record, I didn't say you missed him."

The wind picked up overhead, shaking the leaves of the tree restlessly.

"Sometimes I hate you, Fishlegs," Astrid said.

"Yeah, I get that," he nodded. "It's fine to miss him, you know. You two share everything now; you sleep together, you wake up together... if you're having a fight, it's normal to feel like things aren't right. You don't have to attach any more meaning to it than that."

"I don't know what you mean," she scoffed as her hair stung her cheek. "And you're wrong, I _don't _miss him."

"Right," he said flatly. He glanced up at the sky suddenly. "It kind of looks like it might rain soon," he said thoughtfully. Astrid gave a start.

"No it doesn't," she said defensively, but she couldn't help noticing the sky wasn't as clear as it had been earlier, and the wind was definitely picking up.

"Well, maybe not for a few hours- _hey!" _he shouted as she suddenly jumped to her feet and hurried off. "Where are you going?! _Astrid!"_

_He'll be fine, _she told herself as she bounded down the hill, two steps at a time, ignoring Fishlegs calling for her. _The wind isn't raging or anything, it's just a bit brisk. It's nothing he can't handle... right?_

She had a sudden mental image of Hiccup clinging to a piece of driftwood in the open sea.

_No way, not even he could mess up that badly in a little breeze like this, _she thought, but she nevertheless sprinted up the path until she came at last to the cliff by the pier. A few villagers were making their way up already; Astrid noted with dread that they looked rather put-down.

"How did-" she began, but one of them gave her an apologetic pat on the shoulder.

"Sorry, lass. We thought, for sure..."

She didn't stop to hear the rest, her unease growing rapidly into full-blown alarm as she fought her way through the dispersing crowd.

"Move! Get out of the way!" she snarled, nearly pushing a cousin of hers off the side of the bluff. By the time she made it to the docks, she was thoroughly winded, bent over her knees as she nursed a stitch in her side.

"Astrid? You okay?"

She looked up so quickly her neck cracked painfully.

"Wh-, what- you-" she gasped, unable to articulate.

Hiccup managed a small, rueful smile. He looked exhausted and a bit disheveled but no worse for wear.

"Yeah, I didn't die or anything," he said, glancing back at his father, who seemed to be in a better mood than Astrid had ever seen him. "He's been drinking a bit too much," he noted as Stoick bodily threw Gobber into the water with a great, triumphant laugh.

"So then-"

Hiccup turned back to her, not quite catching her eye.

"Mm, I thought it would be a lot harder, but I guess I'm an adult now. Or something." He scratched his temple nervously. "So uhm, I probably should... What I mean is... I wanted to, you know... apologize..." He paused, his face reddening. "Look, I'm a mess, Astrid, and honestly, sometimes you scare me. A lot. Which is usually a _good _thing, I guess, but it just means sometimes I don't want you to, you know, get the wrong... idea? Or, uh... I mean, sometimes it's like, I forget how- er, no I mean-"

Astrid straightened up and sighed.

"You're hopeless and I don't forgive you, Hiccup Haddock," she said curtly. He shut up immediately, looking defeated.

"Er, yeah I uh... I didn't think it would be that easy anyway," he muttered.

She stuck out her hand for him.

"I need a new bow sheathe," she said as he stared at her, perplexed. "Dark leather, if you have it."

"What?"

She frowned at him. "A sheathe, Hiccup. If you want a girl to forgive you, the least you can do is give her something to show you mean it. And are you going to take my hand or not?! I don't have all day!"

"O-Oh!" he said, hastily clasping his calloused fingers around hers. "Y-yeah, I can make a sheathe," he said, following her lead as they started up the hill.

"Good, I'll hold you to that," she said in her calmest tone. She was trying hard not to show just how relieved she felt, or how comforting his hand felt in hers as the rain started to fall around them.

Notes: *Sweats* I totally didn't forget I had a fic to write in the midst of the Hell that is our current world. Nope.


End file.
